I Looked At You, And I Saw Myself
by Sarnai4
Summary: Dagur and Hiccup have more things in common than people realize. One of these similarities is how they are received by their fellow vikings. We know about Hiccup, but what of the young Berserker?
1. Berk

**Suggested by Twilight81598**

The time for the peace treaty between Berk and Berserker Island had come again. Oswald the Agreeable stood at the starboard of his ship and stared at the open seas. "_So much is out there."_ he thought. "_If only I could see it all **and** lead my people."_ His musings were interrupted by a frightened cry ringing out. He turned to see Captain Vorg having been surprised by some chickens that had been sneaked on deck.

Oswald walked over to a barrel and saw the fowls. "I swear, Chief. I had no part in this." Vorg ensured. The leader sighed, "I am all too aware of who did this, Vorg. Please, continue with your steering." As if on cue, Dagur popped up, chasing after a large hen. He matched every quick move the bird made, be they turns or stops. Speeding up, he scooped up the chicken and laughed. The poultry flapped its wings in protest.

"Leave that chicken alone, Dagur." The chief ordered, annoyed. "Why?" the boy asked, confused. "Because I said so." the man answered, frowning slightly. The little boy, reluctantly, put it down. When Oswald turned, Dagur made a face at his back, "Do you think Hiccup will be able to hang out now?" he asked. The chief thought, "He'll be seven, so he can do more things than before." Oswald left before seeing the deranged twinkle in his son's eyes.

The Berserker ships pulled into the Berkian harbor and both chiefs went to greet the other. "Oswald, how have you been?" Stoick inquired. "Quite fine. How about you and your little warrior?" The Berkian's face dropped, "He's not much of a warrior, but he's smart. That'll be of good use in battle strategies." he said, hopefully.

Dagur rocked back and forth on his feet, "_They're taking forever! I'll go find Hiccup and they can keep talking about their boring stuff." _he decided. The Berserker boy went to the village and looked around. No Hiccup. Suddenly, he remembered Gobber always being with the little Berkian and he went to his welding building.

The elder Berkian was making a new mace and Hiccup watched, intently. Dagur tackled the smaller boy to the ground. "Hiccup!" he exclaimed, happily, hugging him. The boy looked at him with a dazed expression and Dagur lifted him back onto his feet. "Hi, Gobber." the Berserker waved. "Hello, Dagur. Will your father be coming this way soon?" the welder inquired. Dagur shrugged, "He was still talking with Chief Stoick. The dragon-viking war'll probably stop before **he** does." Gobber reached for some more scrap metal and found none. "How about you two go grab me some more scrap from the trading station. I've got some axes and swords you can give 'em for it." They nodded, Dagur skipping out and half dragging Hiccup with him.

The Berkian heir was struggling to lift a sword(which was the only weapon, out of ten, that he had to carry). Dagur groaned and slowed down his pace, "At this rate, we'll **never** get there. Hurry up, Hiccup." The boy tried to respond, but barely had enough breath to do so, "Can...we..take a..break?" he panted. Grumpily, the Berserker stopped, took the sword, and headed to the trading station alone.

Hiccup went over to a tree and leaned against its trunk. A dark haired boy came up and rammed his shoulder into Hiccup as he passed by. "Watch it, Runt." the newcomer said. "You came over to me." Hiccup protested. "Uh, yeah! There's a tree here that only **real** vikings can rest under. I saw you. You were just holding a sword-if you can even consider that **holding** one." The small boy frowned, "Snotlout, aren't you busy doing something?" "Nope. **I've** already done everything I was supposed to today. Correctly too." Snotlout laughed.

"Who was that other guy? He had to lift everything because you're so scrawny. Too bad." the young viking asked. "He's Dagur. The Berserker chief's son." Hiccup answered. "A real viking." Snotlout mused, impressed, "Seems cool. Like he'd be an actual heir to lead a tribe. Unlike you. I think I'll stick around to meet him." he decided. Hiccup paled, _"Who knows what Snotlout will say? By the time he finishes, every viking in the whole world will think I'm pathetic."_

Dagur found a merchant trading scrap and loaded the weapons onto his table. "Can I trade these for those?" he questioned. The viking looked over the arsenal, "This is good craftsmenship. I'll give ya that scrap." The deal was made and the boy started to bring the metal to where Hiccup had stayed.

The Berserker heir found Hiccup and saw an odd look on his face. He noticed Snotlout, "Who are you?" he asked, more menacingly than he intended. The younger boy's bravado faltered and he composed himself, "I'm Snotlout. The future best viking to ever bless Berk's shores." Dagur rolled his eyes and brushed past him. "Are you ready to head back?" he asked Hiccup. Snotlout popped up in front of him, "**Hello**. Future great warrior here." he said, upset. "Heard you the first time, Snothat. Now unless you plan on us using you as a wheelbarrow to carry this stuff, get out of our way." Dagur told him.

He handed Hiccup a piece of scrap to lift and began going to the huts. Hiccup heaved, trying to bring it with him. "Look, Dagur. He can't even carry a small piece of metal! Why do you want to hang around him? He's such a loser." Snotlout accented his point by pushing Hiccup to the ground. The boy grunted when he hit the dirt and the metal landed and pushed on his stomach, keeping him down. Some other kids-who had seen the act-laughed.

The little Berkian turned beet red and struggled to get back to his feet. Dagur turned red too, but from rage. He clenched his fists and shook as the laughing seemed to engulf the his very being. The Berserker grabbed Snotlout by his shirt and lifted him. "Show some respect for your future chief." he hissed and began to pull put a large piece of scrap to smite the boy.

"Dagur!" Oswald shouted, "Leave the child alone." He rushed over to them and, forcibly, released Dagur's grip. "He was bullying Hiccup!" the boy complained. Stoick came over and helped his son to his feet. "Are **you** at least going to do something?" Dagur questioned. "Dagur!" his father chided, "A parent cannot fight their child's battles." Dagur scowled at him, "A little protecting's never hurt anyone, though." he paused, "Silly me. Not sure why I expected any sort of violence- condoning from good ol' Oswald the Agreeable." The little boy gave a cackle that disturbed the group as he made his way to Berk's guest hut.


	2. Welcome Back

The Berserkers sailed back to their island and Oswald and Dagur had an almost eerie silence between them. Captain Vorg called to them, "Chief, we're docking now." The ruler gave him a nod and kept his gaze fixated on the glorious oceans that laid before him. The pulled into the Berserker Island shores causing him to sigh, descending into them and being greeted by adoring vikings.

Father and son went to their house and Dagur started practicing his accuracy with throwing knives. There was a picture, he had drawn, that he used for a target. A blade hit the portrait in its eye,"Bull's eye!" the little boy laughed. Oswald groaned at the sound and went to the kitchen. He noticed the lack of fish and went back to his son. "Dagur, go to the docks and buy two Trouts." he took the boy's hand and replaced another knife with some copper coins. Oswald nearly, shoved him out the door.

Scowling, Dagur went to proceed with the errand, "_Why can't **he** ever go? I was training. It's not like he was doing anything important."_ he fumed. The Berserker made his way to the fishermen, "Can I have two Trouts?" he asked. A fisher nodded and exchanged the coins with him. "Thanks." he said, and rushed to get back to the hut.

Dagur sensed that he was being followed and excelerated his pace. "_Almost there."_ he thought, hopefully, "_Just a little mor-"_ something caught his legs, tying them together. He looked and saw that he had been caught by a bolas. Grabbing one of his knifes, he, quickly, went to cut himself free. Another bolas came and tied his arms to his side. He was hit from behind, knocking him to the ground.

A large boot stepped onto his back and pushed him into the dirt. "Ay, Dainty. What're ya up to today?" Dagur heard. He turned his head away from the earth and raised his eyes to the viking preventing his return. On top of him, stood Ansson the Abominable-a large, redheaded viking. "What's...it to..you?" Dagur huffed out, the viking's weight was squeezing air out of him.

Ansson smiled, "I can't be curious about my young friend's activities?" His focus went to the bag Dagur carried. He yoked it off the boy and examined the contents. "Hey!" the little Berserker managed to say. "I was wondering what I wanted for dinner!" Ansson stated, enthusiastically. He started eating the fish as it was, and quite savagely. "What?" he asked, seeing Dagur's disgusted expression, "You don't know how **real **vikings eat? Watch and learn."

"What else've you got?" Ansson lifted the boy off the ground by the ropes and dangled him, searching him for any other item. He found the remaining coins, "Just copper? Are ya holding out on me, Dainty?" The large viking brought his fist down like a sledgehammer on the boy's head and Dagur growled at the other viking. A knee went into his stomach, causing him to curl over.

"You've got to have more than this. Go home and bring some of your ol' man's." he ordered. Dagur glared at him and then smiled, "Sure. Mind untying me first?" he requested. Ansson drew his sword and raised it above his head. The little boy resisted a flinch as the guy brought the weapon down to him. It was not a perfect cut, or perhaps, it was. The slice cut the bolas off Dagur, but it drew some of his blood as well.

A small yelp escaped the boy's lips and Ansson chuckled in response. Dagur went into his hut and bolted the door. He laughed, triumphantly and crazily. "What's all this noise about, Dagur?" Oswald questioned, coming into the entrance way. Briefly, he looked the young boy over, "Where's the fish?" He crossed his arms over his chest. Dagur's visage went cold, "Ansson. He took the fish **and** the coins." "Well, go ask him to give them back."

The boy cackled, "You're kidding! Go back out there? And ask?! Good one, Dad." Oswald's face remained stern, "I am serious, Dagur. I want those back, but you know that I don't condone violence. Asking is the best option." His son looked at him, dumbfounded. He kept opening his mouth and closing it, unsure of how to respond. Finally, he discovered his words, "First off, Ansson's not one to reason with. The fish are gone anyway. He ate them. If you'd let me get a weapon of my own, **then** I could get the things back."

"I will not allow **you**, of all people, to go around my village armed. Who knows how much carnage would occur?" Oswald mentioned, rising from his chair, "Now, go." Dagur frowned at him, "Kind of putting me at a disadvantage, don't you think?" The chief did not make a remark and only pointed to the exit.

Dagur huffed and unbolted the door. "_Maybe I should take some coins and slit Ansson's wrinkly__ throat with them."_ he mused. As he opened the door, he saw Ansson with a battering ram. "Dainty, you **did** come back. Thought I'd have to let myself in." He dropped the ram and eyed Dagur up and down, "Well, where're the coins?" Dagur squared his shoulders, "I didn't get any." he took a deep breath, "I want to ask if you'd return the coins."

Ansson roared with laughter, "Everyone! Our future chief is, politely, requesting that his belongings be returned." he bellowed, in a mocking tone. There was a mixture of chuckles from the younger vikings and looks of disappointment from the older ones. "I ain't givin' you back a darn thing, Dainty. At least be berserk enough to challenge me for them. I thought, if nothing else, you'd be crazy enough for **that**."

Ansson took a step towards Dagur, "Guess I'll have to show you what happens to peaceful vikings." He punched at Dagur and missed. The boy was pretty quick, so Ansson changed tactics and drew his weapon again, "My **blade's** faster than you are. Keep still and you won't be minced meat." Dagur looked at the weapon then back at Ansson, "_Is he right? **Would** he be faster with his weapon? Only one way to find out."_ he thought, as a deranged twinkle came into his eyes.

Dagur sent a fast kick into the inside of Ansson's left knee, making the viking stumble some. The viking slashed his weapon and cut air. The copper caught Dagur's eye, but Ansson's sword swung at him when he got close enough to take the coins. The boy dodged around more hits and Ansson did a sweep kick, taking Dagur's legs from beneath him.

Ansson sat on top of him and punched him across his face multiple times. Dagur brought his hands up to block and tried to get the viking off of him, but failed at the latter. He spat a baby tooth-that had been punched out-at Ansson and his blade was put to Dagur's throat as he rose himself from the ground. He sent kicks into the boy's ribs, the sword keeping him at bay.

Grabbing him by his braid, Ansson lifted the boy off the ground and slashed his stomach. He raised him a bit higher and body slammed him back down. "You're not even a good viking. You'll **never** be a Berserker chief." Ansson walked away, proudly, and his adoring fans looked in awe at his "greatness". As Ansson disappeared from view, the crowd's focus went to Dagur.

The boy felt heat rise in his cheeks and he, painfully, rose himself to a standing position. He went into his hut and up to Oswald. Glaring, he flung the copper coins onto his table. "You got them?" Oswald asked, wide-eyed. "I have fast hands. You'd know this if you ever paid attention to me when I'm **not** running your errands." Dagur told him, bitterly. He started to walk away and Oswald got up from his chair, "I pay attention," he began, "to what is important."

Dagur balked and continued to walk. He went to the washroom and cleaned his wound and bruises. "'I pay attention to what is important.'" he quietly, mocked. He let out a low, roar in fury. "He wouldn't know what or who's important if it came flying in on a dragon." He saw his reflection in the water. He looked a **lot** like his father. Besides the hair color, he was the spitting image of Oswald when he was little.

Dagur splashed the water to get rid of the image. His throat grew sore and he felt his eyes burn. Quickly, he washed his face and stormed up to his room. "_One day,"_ he thought, "_**I'll** be chief and no one will be able to tell me what to do or that I'm not good enough. They'll even **want** to listen. I'll be the best Berserker anyone's ever seen and they'll be ashamed of themselves for how they treated me."_


	3. What's New?

Stoick, Hiccup, and Gobber stood on the docks, expecting their visitors. It was the next annual visit for the peace treaty. Hiccup had begun to forget what the last time was like, "_I'll bet that since I'm eight now, I'll remember better for the future."_ the boy thought, hopefully. He knew that his father and Gobber seemed to be looking forward to meeting up with Chief Oswald again.

The Berserker ships came into view and Hiccup felt excitement build in his stomach. The vessels docked, allowing the vikings to come onto the Berkian shores. Oswald smiled, widely, "My friends, we really should not have our only meetings be for this peace treaty." Stoick clasped Oswald's outstretched hand, "I agree, but we're both too busy to take any pleasure trips. They'll have to remain business." Oswald's smile faltered for a second and returned.

Behind the Berserker chief came Dagur. He gave a large grin after spotting Hiccup, but refrained from tackling him like before. To be nice-as his father kept insisting-Dagur acknowledged the two adults as well. "Hi, Chief Stoick and Gobber. How are you?" he asked, though his focus was still on the small viking and he bounced, slightly. The two large Berkians chuckled, "We're fine, Dagur. I don't suppose that you and Hiccup would like to go look around the island?" Stoick suggested.

Surprise was evident in the boy's face and a happy smile took it over. He turned from Hiccup to give an enthusiastic nod to the Berkian chief. Next, he grabbed Hiccup's hand and began galloping into the village. Stoick looked on, "_He looks a bit different."_ he pondered, "_I guess, it's just him getting older."_ Oswald shook his head at the sight of the two going off, _"I wouldn't have let Hiccup go play with Dagur, if he were **my** son."_ he thought, judgementally. "Come on to the Hall, Ossie." Gobber told and the trio started for the building.

The two kids slowed their speed when Hiccup began to grow tired, "You're not exhausted yet?" he asked. "Nope. I've got plenty of energy." Dagur stated. He saw a heavyset kid coming over. "Hi, Hiccup." the boy said. "Hi, Fishlegs, this is Dagur. He's the Berserker chief's son." Hiccup informed the kid. Fishlegs paled, "Uh, are Berserkers really...um..berserk?" he asked, being unable to find a politically correct way of inquiring. Dagur laughed and he got his answer, "Depends on your opinion. Some of them seem pretty boring to me."

An idea popped into Dagur's head, "Hey, have you two ever done knife throwing?" They shook their heads and Fishlegs shrunk. "Well, looks like this'll be a new experience for you." Dagur looked at some trees that were not being utilized for anything. "Have any paint that we can use?" he questioned. "We don't use much paint. There's some **right** before you get to the Hall. We'll show you." Hiccup stated.

The three went to the Hall and Dagur found some small paint barrels. He took them back to the trees with the others and brushed some strokes on the trunks. Pointing to the stripes, he began, "So, you want to hit the different paint colors **exactly** as you planned. If you say yellow;left, you have to hit that color and so forth." Dagur ran away from the trees until he was about thirty feet away. He pulled out a knife that was on him, "Red;center." he called out. The blade flew through the air in a perfect line, landing directly where he had prophecized.

Hiccup and Fishlegs watched in amazement as Dagur called out several more shots, accurately. He came over to them, "Care to try?" Dagur offered his knife to Fishlegs. The boy trembled, "N-no thank you. I'm more of studier than blade thrower." "Yeah, if it's got** nerd** written all over it, that's for him." a familiar voice added. They turned to see Snotlout and through his peripheral vision, Dagur saw the two vikings shrink.

"Hey, Dagster." Snotlout said, excitedly. The older viking glared at him, "Don't call me that." "But that's what buds do." he protested. Dagur crossed his arms, "Then I **really** don't want you calling me that. Why'd you come over here, anyway? Just to talk trash?" The dark haired boy frowned, "No-well kind of. I still don't get why you're hanging out with Hiccup. Don't even get me started with Fishface. It's like you're scoping the whole island for the biggest losers or something."

Fishleg's bottom lip quivered, "Do you always have to say things like that?" Snotlout went over to him, "Like what? The truth? Get used to it, Fishboy, that's all you'll hear around from real Berkians. We don't accept failure. Which is just about all I'm seeing in this general direction." he flicked his wrist at the two. Dagur, practically, had steam pouring off his head and began to walk to the boy. Hiccup rushed to stop him, "I can handle this." Dagur gave the kid a disbelieving look, but backed down.

"Snotlout, have you ever thrown knives?" the Berkian heir inquired. Snotlout thought, "No I haven't. But I could if I wanted to." Hiccup gestured towards the trees, "Well, you have to call out where you're aiming first and then hit it with the blade." With an arrogant huff, Snotlout nodded, "Easy! Come on, gimme." he told Hiccup. The boy shook his head, "**I **don't have the knife. You have to ask Dagur." Timidly, Snotlout went over to the larger boy, "Can I have the knife, please?" he asked, as politely as he could. A smirk went across the Berserker's face, "Interesting word choice." Dagur saw Hiccup shaking his head, fervently, and he sighed, handing the knife over. "Mess it up and I'll mess **you** up." he promised.

Snotlout swallowed hard and looked at the tree, "Eh, I'll hit the right side of the green." He threw the knife, hitting a bush to the side of the trunk and blushed. "Easy, huh?" Hiccup laughed. "I **said** green! Bushes are green, nimrod." Snotlout tried to cover. The small viking rolled his eyes, "Sure. And if you had said blue, I'm sure it wouldn't have ended up there. Maybe in the water?" Snotlout marched up to him, fists balled and Dagur went between the two. "You want to fight my friend, you'll have to fight me first." The other boy stepped back and snarled at the two kids, "They're not worth the effort." And with that, he started to march away.

The Berserker heir cleared his throat, loudly, "You didn't return my knife. I didn't **give** it to you. Go on." he shooed Snotlout over to the bush. Grumbling, the boy searched through the foliage, scratching himself with thorns all the while. After a bit, he found the desired item and handed it back. Dagur grinned and accepted the blade. He then mocked Snotlout's prior gesture in flicking his wrist, signaling that he may leave.

"Nicely, done, brother." Dagur commended. Hiccup eyebrow rose, "Brother?" The Berserker nodded, "Yep, we're like brothers." he fiddled with the blade, "You never got a chance to try." "I'm okay. Let's try something else." Hiccup suggested, "There's a good swimming spot on the West side of the island." "That'll do." Dagur agreed and the three started their traveling.

Meanwhile, Oswald and the two Berkians were speaking. "How's Hiccup been?" Stoick sighed, "You see him. He's still so small. I'm really hoping that he gets bigger soon. It's hard enough to fight off dragons, trying to protect my vikings, without having to worry about him getting in the way and being eaten." Gobber rubbed his chin, "The lad **does** have a tendency to be wherever the trouble is. Not the best combination with his size."

Oswald gave a good-natured smile, "He'll be fine. He's still young, so even if he doesn't grow too big, he'll find other things that shall keep him safe. Just have some faith in him." Stoick sat back in his throne, "I'm trying." he paused, "How's Dagur been?" he asked, hoping to change the subject. Oswald's face was unreadable, "He's fine." Gobber leaned forward, "Is he still a little-" he made a circling motion on the side of his head with his finger. Oswald refrained from groaning, "Quite. This seems longer than a phase. What say you both?"

Gobber and Stoick looked at each other, "I don't know, Oswald. There might be something wrong with him." Stoick told. He thought back to when the boy looked at him, "Has he gotten into any fights? He almost looked a bit bruised today. Berserkers don't start dragon combat training this early, do you?" Oswald shook his head, "No, it's not until you're a teenager that you start to learn survival techniques. He **does** get in some fights, though. A daily occurrence, I think."

Stoick's brows furrowed, "Know who it is?" Oswald nodded, absent-mindedly, "Some kid named Amssun or something like that." "Who normally wins?" Gobber asked, intrigued. Oswald shrugged, "I, rarely, see the fights, but I think the other viking." Gobber's face dropped, "Huh, odd. Always figured Dagur would be good at fights." "He's good at driving me up the wall." the Berserker chief stated, under his breath.

As the conversation continued on, the kids were enjoying the waters. Dagur looked around bored as Hiccup and Fishlegs floated, peacefully. "How strong at swimming are you two?" he inquired. "Not that good." Fishlegs stated, he had been, barely, staying afloat. "I'm really not very good either. I can float, but not go too many places." Hiccup confided. Dagur looked at them, worriedly, "What if you get attacked by a shark? You need to be good enough to at least get where someone can help you."

Hiccup's face saddened, "How would I get better, though? My dad says 'just practice'." "Yeah, that works too. **If **you don't swim into a sea monster in the meantime. You have to prepare for the attack. I can be the shark and you two can be yourselves." Dagur told. Fishlegs, instinctively, began to doggie paddle back to the docks, "No thank you. Uh-it was fun hanging out with you guys. Nice meeting you, Dagur." he called from the shore.

"You too, Fishy." Dagur called back. He returned his focus to Hiccup, "It'll be easier if only have to go after you, anyway." "I don't know, Dagur." The Berserker gave him a "reassuring" smile and the small boy, reluctantly, stayed in the water.

Hiccup watched as the other viking sank into the water, hiding hikself from view. Nervousness found its way into the little Berkian as he waited for the "shark" to attack. He felt his leg being grabbed and pulled downwards. With a yelp, the boy was plunged into the water. He kicked and tried to swim up, but futiley. The light from the sun soon faded as he delved deeper into the icy liquid.

Hiccup held his breath as water threatened to enter his lungs and the pressure made him feel as though he was being crushed. Unable to withstand from breathing any longer, his miniscule frame went limp. Noticing this, Dagur brought him back to the surface and swam him to the shore. The boy, gradually, regained consciousness and choked up water.

"That's why we need to train for this. If I **had** been a shark, you'd be gone." Dagur commented. Hiccup glared at the boy, "Well, I don't plan on jumping into the sea on a regular basis. When would I ever need this?" he asked, angrily. Dagur frowned back at him, "I never said that you'd **purposefully** jump into a shark's mouth. You never know when you might be in water. Heck, you could get thrown into the sea by another viking! Don't say I didn't try to help, if you do."

Still frowning, Hiccup got up and went to the Hall. Dagur lagged behind him, "We could go get Fishlegs and train for if one of us gets taken hostage. We'd probably have to eat rotten fish heads." Hiccup stopped walking, "What's with all these weird training exercises? I don't remember doing them last time." "That's because we didn't. I know better now and you should too. You can't expect to become the best viking if all you do is wait for something to happen."

"_As if I'll ever be the best at anything."_ Hiccup thought, miserably. Dagur saw the depression come over him and gave him a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You'll find something that you're really good at, Brother. Don't worry." The two saw their fathers shaking hands and Dagur gave Hiccup hug. Oswald smiled at Stoick and Gobber, "If you all ever need anything, send a message and we'll do what we can." "Likewise." Stoick stated.

With this, the ships set off for their course, fathers and sons waving goodbye.


	4. Reinforcements

Oswald stood at the docks, wondering what was beyond the constraints of the archipelago. "_New vikings, creatures, and Thor knows what else could be out there. Each more fascinating than the last."_ He squinted at the horizon, "_Is there something coming this way?"_ The chief took out his spyglass and saw Mulch and Bucket sailing up the island.

They were exhausted looked concerned, "Chief Oswald! Our chief sent us to request help from your fleets." Mulch told. Oswald helped the vikings onto the wooden docks, "What's wrong?" "Dragons!" Bucket cried, beginning to pace, "They're **everywhere**!" His companion nodded, sadly, "A lot of Berkians are getting killed by them and more cattle than I can count has been stolen. We shouldn't need your help for too long. Every year for a few days, the fledgling dragons come and take even more than the adults do. They targeted our storage this time, so everyone's a little weaker than what we'd like."

Oswald gave a reassuring grin, "Of course, we'll help. Not sure why, but we never have dragon issues here. I'll bring some of the armada with us." The vikings went to the Hall and Oswald stood on the platform. "Berserkers! The Hairy Hooligan tribe has requested our backup with dragon attacks. Herald, I want you and your alpha squad loading up some ships with supplies. They've lost those and lives over there. Get your things ready, men, because we'll be spending a few days there."

The vessels were packed to the rims with artillery and food for the Berkians. The vikings set off for what felt like an unending trip to Berk. Dagur paced back and forth, "_What if Chief Stoick's been killed? Or Gobber? Or...Hic-"_ he shook his head clear of the retched thought and looked over the side of the ship. They had to be getting closer, even if at snail speed. After more sailing, Berk came into the Berserker's view.

It took everything for Dagur to not jump off the vessel and swim to the Berkian chief and heir's hut, ensuring their still existing states; however, when they docked, this **is** what he did. On the run there, he saw vikings sprawled about. They were a combination of alive and unconscious people and dead and charred ones. With a shudder, he continued, seeing more of the destruction that had been caused by the ravenous reptiles. Homes were demolished and buildings left in pieces. The little Berserker saw the storage house and that it had been torn apart, the food all taken.

He reached his friend's hut and knocked, rapidly. Dagur decided that if the door was not answered in five seconds, he would burst in and make sure they were all right. Fortunately, entrance was opened by a fatigued Stoick. His dim eyes brightened after seeing that reinforcements had come. He saw Oswald coming as the boy brushed past him to find Hiccup. "When I said that we should do this more often, Stoick, this wasn't what I had in mind." Oswald stated, with a kind smile. The Berkian sighed, "Thank you for coming. We've never had this happen before and I'm going to make sure it never does again. Some stronger support beams should fix the problem with our food compartment, but we don't have anything to put **in** the storage."

As the chiefs spoke, Dagur found Hiccup hiding under his bed. "That's a terrible hiding spot." the Berserker chided, "All the dragons would have to do is **look **for you and you'd be found!" he yoked the boy out from underneath and, visually, scanned the room for a better location. "I don't want to hide, anyway, but my dad says that I should." Hiccup pouted, "I need to be out making dragons leave or something." Dagur laughed, "Making them leave? Brother, you have to kill them! You can't just politely request that they vacate the premises." The Berkian frowned, slightly, "Killing them seems so harsh, though. I'm sure there's another way to handle it." Dagur shrugged, "Sure. Get eaten. **That's** the alternative. Your dad's right about you hiding. While you know that I'd **love** to kill dragons with you, you're just not ready to be good help yet. Sorry."

Hiccup's head dropped, discouragedly. "How frequent were the attacks? Should we be expecting a dragon to fly in here any second or in a few hours? That type of thing." Dagur questioned. The younger boy thought back, "It was pretty random. I-I really don't know **when** they'll be back. They've come mulitple times in one day." The Berserker heir rubbed his chin, "That sucks. Well, we'll just have to remain prepared at all times." The Berserker

fell down to his stomach and did a commando crawl around the room, still looking for a good place. "Think your dad would mind if we hollowed this out?" he inquired. Hiccup observed the floor about which his friend was speaking, "Probably. Can't we find a place that already exists?" Dagur sighed, heavily, "If you want to do it the boring way."

The two finally settled on a small compartment that was normally used for keeping boots. "It smells awful in here." Hiccup complained, scrunching up his face. "Maybe, but a lot better than the inside of a giant reptile." Dagur noted. Despite what he wanted to do, Hiccup had to agree. The Berserker went around Berk, looking for anything/one that could be a liability. Remembering his new little pal, he went to find Fishlegs. The boy was trying to help his parents gather weapons, from the fallen vikings, to use in later battles. He trembled and gagged the entire time. "Hey, Fishy!" Dagur called, making the, already on edge, boy nearly jump out of his skin.

"Oh, hi, Dagur." he responded, calming down. "I heard that you guys were coming to help Berk. Thanks." he smiled. "No problem. Are you going to kill any dragons?" Dagur questioned, even though he had a very strong feeling the answer was no. He was correct, "I've never killed a dragon before. They're really cool, though and I know a bunch of different things about them. Like their classes, blast limits, common behavior-" Fishlegs kept going on and Dagur was unsure if he were interested in the information-that could, potentially, be useful-or if he were zoning out and thinking about cooler and less real dragon skills.

"You're never going to kill dragons if all you can do is **talk** about them." a viking laughed. That viking was, of course, Snotlout. The boy made sure that he stayed a good distance from Dagur as he taunted. A blonde girl came up behind him, "And you'll never kill dragons if you spend every waking moment trying to get under other viking's skins. Even though you are **so** good at it, Snotlout." "Well, thank-shut up, Astrid." the boy said. Fishlegs chuckled, "Yep, that's Astrid. You probably haven't met her since she's always training." The girl slung her ax over her shoulder, "**Someone's** got to keep Berk safe when all the older vikings are gone." she stated, haughtily.

Astrid marched up to Dagur, "You're Oswald's son right?" He nodded and she frowned, "We don't need your vikings. My family, alone, can handle these dragons." the viking accented her point by throwing her weapon into a tree. The Berserker scoffed, "Yeah. I noticed how well you guys did when we came up. Is it a new trend to destroy your island and kill off its people?" he asked, sarcastically. She huffed, "You guys can't do anything that we can't. Except get in our way."

Astrid strode off to train more and Snotlout sighed, dreamily, after her, "Isn't she the best?" "She's **something**." Dagur grumbled, frowning after her. He let Fishlegs continue his errand and went on his own way with making a ditch in which the elderly and young vikings could hide. Shadows covered the ground and the viking looked to the skies. Dragons covered the firmament more than clouds in a storm.

Dagur rushed back to where Fishlegs was, "Dragon attack!" he yelled on his way, alerting the unsuspecting vikings. The Berkians and Berserkers readied their weapons and charged at the flying creatures. Fishlegs stood, almost paralyzed, after seeing the attack. "Snap out of it." Dagur shook him. The younger boy unfroze and the Berserker brought him to the trench he had made. "Stay here and don't move unless they come after you." Dagur ordered. Fishlegs nodded his head, compliantly.

Stoick, Gobber, and Oswald took out dragons left and right. For a split second, Dagur was proud of his dad. He might have disagreed with almost everything Oswald said, but he had to admit that his father **was** a good warrior. That only enhanced his disappointment when the chief would not fight. A Monstrous Nightmare tried to crawl up behind Dagur, however the boy sensed it and dodged. The dragon chomped down on air, growling in frustration. The boy laughed and when the reptile opened its mouth again, he threw one of his daggers in there.

The blade cut through the Nightmare's throat and it slammed to the ground with a whimper. An explosion caught Dagur's attention and he saw the chief's hut on fire. A Hideous Zippleback had caused the combustion while searching for more food. "Hiccup!" Stoick yelled. He went to run to get his son, but got surrounded by a mutlitude of dragons. Dagur was already on his way, though, to the hut. Hiccup's hiding spot had been blown apart, but it gave enough cover to save him from the blast. The small boy coughed from the smoke as the dragon neared him. Dagur jumped onto the reptile's back and pinned one of the heads to the ground. The other head began to spew gas and he stabbed the pinned one in the neck, preventing any spark.

More gas filled the hut and Hiccup slipped into unconsciousness. Hidden by its own fog, the dragon hit Dagur with its tail. The boy flew into the wall and the unharmed head tried to eat him. He stabbed it in the eye and it cried out. The Berserker kept stabbing until the dragon laid, motionless on the floor. The hut was still filled with gas and Dagur scooped up Hiccup, carrying the boy out of the area.

Just as the dragons attacked, they left. Many reptiles had been killed and only some of the vikings had been injured, none deceased. Stoick exhaled his held breath upon seeing his son alive. He rushed to the two and held Hiccup. The boy blinked his eyes opened, sluggishly, "Wh-what happened?" he asked. "Dagur saved your life." Stoick told him. The Berkian chief gave Dagur a pat on the back, "I owe you more than you realize. You've got someone on your side if you **ever** need help, son." he said, sincerely. Dagur grinned back as father and son embraced each other.

That evening, Oswald was speaking to Stoick. "How about in a few months, when it's time for the treaty, you two come to **our** island? You've never been before and you can bring Gobber too. I'm sure he'd like it." Oswald offered. Stoick smiled, "Sure. I think Hiccup would like the change of scenery." "Then it's set." The two, happily, shook hands on their deal.


	5. In the Open

The Berserker chief and heir were stitting down for their dinner. Oswald, incessantly, smacked his food, causing Dagur's face to twitch in annoyance. "Might there be a way that you can eat **without** your mouth opening so often, Father?" the boy asked as politely as he could, hoping the approach would prove successful. Oswald slurped down some mead, loudly, "This is just how I eat, Dagur." he belched. The boy frowned, "It's not a birth defect, though. Just a bad habit. I don't understand why you get upset when I laugh around you, but then you get to go on letting the whole archipelago know whenever you're sitting down to a meal. And like a savage, no less." he said the last sentence under his breath.

"Because," the elder Berserker started, "**I'm** chief." he chuckled, "But, honestly, I might sound a bit irritating, but no one's going to be disturbed by it. That's the difference between your noise and mine. You've got an uncomforting laugh, Dagur." The boy cut into some meat with his knife, "So you've said." He ate the morcel, demonstrating how to, properly.

Deciding to change the subject, Dagur spoke again, "So, I've put together everything we need for tomorrow's trip." The chief raised his brow, "We aren't going anywhere tomorrow." "What? But tomorrow's the treaty. Are we declaring war?" the boy inquired, growing concerned. Oswald smiled, "Not in a million years. Stoick, Gobber, and Hiccup are, simply, coming here. It'll be great and I can show them all the wonderful things we have." Dagur paled, "They're coming **here**?" he pointed down, indicating their island. "Yes, Dagur. I didn't find it that difficult to comprehend." he said, condescendingly. The boy scowled, "I understand what you mean, but why would you invite them here? If Ansson sees Hiccup around me, he'll go after him too." "As a host, you should make sure he stays safe. That'll be your job while I'm with Stoick and Gobber." Oswald stated. Dagur grumbled and, hurriedly, finished his meal so that he could be excused.

It was almost time for the Berkian ships to arrive, "Do we have everything that you think you might want to show them?" Dagur asked, "I really don't want to have to go out for it later." he thought. "Maybe." was the response. As Oswald walked in front of him to the docks, Dagur pretending that he was choking the viking. An hour later, the ships entered the harbor and the expected trio came came down the ramp.

"Welcome to Berserker Islands, my friends." Oswald announced, jovially. "I'll give you the tour." he stated and the kids hugged. As the group walked around the island, Dagur made certain that Hiccup was in the middle and hidden from an onlooker's view. The boy tried to be inconspicuous as he eyed everything in close promixity to them. Gobber noticed this, though, and elbowed Stoick. The armourer used his eyes to gesture to the young Berserker and Stoick gave a small nod.

Their tour ended at the trading station and they returned to the chief's hut. Dagur and Hiccup went into the training area of the home while the adults spoke in the main. The Berkian eyed a drawing on the wall with knives in it, "Who's this and why do you throw blades at him?" he asked. Dagur's eyes narrowed at the drawing, "That's Ansson and I hate him. If you see him around here, do **exactly** as I say or imply. He's dangerous." The smaller boy nodded, timidly. Hesitantly, Hiccup began, "I noticed that you've looked kind of bruised up the last times I've seen you. Even now." Dagur, subconsciously, ran a hand over his busted lip and looked down, turning red. "Is he the reason?" the Berkian asked. Sheepishly, Dagur nodded, he then smiled, "Hey, got to get my combat training in some time. Better sooner than later." he laughed.

The adult vikings were enjoying their conversation, "You **really** haven't had any dragon attacks here?" Gobber questioned, "That's unbelievable!" "I kid you not, Gobber. We really haven't had attacks here. Now, on expeditions we've encountered the reptiles, but never on our island." the Berserker chief divulged. "You should thank Odin for that. They're evil beasts that don't deserve to exist." Stoick spat, bitterly. "Don't be so harsh on them, Stoick. They do what they do for some reason. We might not understand, but that's what I want to do and one of these days I might." The Berkian chief calmed, "Don't go packing your bags just yet. You still have a tribe to lead, Oswald. At least wait until Dagur's ready to lead." he suggested. The Berserker fought hard to not roll his eyes, "I'd never make it there, if I did that."

Before Stoick or Gobber could say anything more on the matter, Oswald went to a cabinet, "I forgot about the new mead that's come in. It's better than anything you've ever tried, I assure you that." Stoick waved the idea away, "We're fine. Don't go into any trouble on our account." "Yeah, Ossie. Besides, looks like your mead compartment got filled up anyway." Gobber added. Oswald looked for a space, "Dagur must have done it." he said, quietly. "Well, that was good of him." Gobber noted, missing a disgruntled, grumble coming from the other tribe's chief.

Oswald looked through a couple more things and grunted, "_He's stocked up everything that I would want. All this to avoid getting sent out for an errand. Can't run from trouble, though." he thought. "Dagur,"_ he called. The boy's head went back in annoyance as he answered, "Yes?" he inquired, in his best nice tone despite it being through gritted teeth. His father's voice was soaked in "Do this". "I forgot about the new mead that came in yesterday." _"Dang it. I did too."_ the boy thought. "Be a good boy and go get a. barrel for us." Oswald requested. The Berserker boy sighed, "Fine."

Oswald tossed him a small bag of gold coins and Dagur started for the door, "Hold on." his father stopped him, "Take Hiccup with you. He'll make sure you get the right thing." His son gave him a pleading look, but received one of blankness. Dagur's expression changed to a frown, "Come on, Hiccup." he said, grumpily. The boys went out the door through town. The elder looked around to make sure they were not being followed. "Stay close." Hiccup was told. They sped their way to the merchants and purchased the "special" mead.

With the barrel under one arm and Hiccup to his side, Dagur could not wait to get back to their hut. The boy sensed someone behind him and he felt sick to his stomach. "Brother, go up ahead of me to the hut." he stated, calmly. Hiccup looked at him and around them. Behind, he saw a large viking that resembled the drawing he had seen, exactly. They were still moving at their fast pace, _"That was a good drawing. Looks **just** like the guy. I don't get why Dagur wants me to leave, though. We can both go to the hut."_ the little boy mused.

Hiccup frowned, "No. I'm not going anywhere." Dagur glared at him, sideways, "I told you to listen before we even came out here." he whispered, harshly. "We can both get to your hut, Dagur." Hiccup protested. "No we can't. If we could-trust me-I'd be there." the Berserker insisted, "Now for the last time, **go**." The Berkian stayed by his side and Dagur growled. The viking behind them sped up and blocked their path.

"You have a friend, Dainty? Must've been forced to spend time with you just to be nice." Ansson said. Hiccup stood tall, "I **am** his friend. No one makes me hang out with him. I just want to." The large viking sneered at the two, "Pathetic. Makes sense that you would have a runt as a flunky, Dainty." Before Dagur could speak, Ansson began again, "What're you have there? Mead? That's a real viking's drink, so give it here." Dagur glowered as Ansson took a step closer. "Are ya deaf now on top of everything else? I don't much like to repeat myself. Your apology'll be accepted if you hand over the little one for fish bait."

Hiccup's eyes widened and he backed away. Ansson charged at him and he braced himself for the impact. When nothing came, he opened his eyes and saw the two Berserkers romping on the ground. Dagur had tackled Ansson, stopping him from hurting the young Berkian. In the ground wrestling, Ansson, quickly, rolled to the top position. He flipped Dagur around and brought the boy's left arm behind him, applying force to the appendage. Ansson pushed the arm in the wrong direction and it sprained. Dagur bit his lip, keeping a yell in his throat. The older viking kept pushing and stopped, but only after he heard a sickening crack.

A sound followed and Dagur realized that it was his cry of agony. Hearing his friend's pain, Hiccup snapped out of his paralysis. He knew that there was nothing he could, directly, do to help, but he ran back to the hut. The boy reached the hut and swung the entrance door open, "Dad!" he ran over to the vikings. "What's wrong, Hiccup?" Stoick rose from his chair, "Where's Dagur?" the chief asked, anxiety rising in his voice. "There's this big viking that tried to attack me and he stopped him. They're fighting right now, but the other guy's too strong and is winning." Hiccup replied. Gobber stood and looked at Oswald, expecting concern.

There was no emotion in the Berserker chief's visage, "Don't worry yourself, lad. He'll be fine. This isn't an uncommon occurrence for him." Oswald turned to the adults, "Hiccup must be talking about that Abspum fellow." Stoick and Gobber wanted to be relieved that it was only a childish feud, but the worry in Hiccup's eyes made them feel the same. Gobber rocked on his foot and peg leg, uncomfortably, "There's never any harm in just seeing what's going on, eh? Make sure nothing gets out of hand." His friend, hurriedly, nodded, "Stay here, though, son. The three-," he saw Oswald's indifference, "two of us will go make sure Dagur's all right."

As Hiccup went for help, Ansson pulled Dagur up by his, newly, broken arm. He grabbed the boy's headband and brought it down over his face to his neck. Pulling it tight, he began to choke the little Berserker. Dagur attempted to pry the band from his throat, but was unable. Ansson released him and kicked him in the back, knocking him into a builing's wall. The viking went over and used that to his advantage, punching the boy in the stomach and face. Dagur dodged a kick to the head and threw a dagger at the viking with his good arm. Ansson maneuvered around it and got him with a bolas, tying Dagur's arms to him.

The viking took hold of the boy by his hurt arm and dragged him to the coast. The two went out into the sea. Dagur struggled to free himself from the rough grip. When deeming that they were in deep enough, Ansson grabbed Dagur's braid and dunked his head into the water. The Berserker fought and squirmed, kicking his legs. He made contact with the viking and the grasp was lost. Dagur began to swim away, quickly, but only able to use his lower half. Unfortunately, Ansson was an excellent swimmer and caught the boy by his foot, "Doesn't work of you leave, Dainty." The viking pulled him closer to him and whispered in his ear, "Know what attracts sharks even faster?"

Dagur felt as though a dragon had dug its fangs into his leg and tore out a chunk of flesh. Ansson had brought out his blade and slashed the boy's right thigh. Dagur yelled in pain and was pushed even further into the water. He managed to push himself up and out long enough to speak, "If..the sharks come, won't...**you** die...too?" he panted, gulping as much air as time would allow. Ansson shook his head, grinning, evilly, "I'm just waiting until you're out cold. Then I'll leave the fangy fish to their free meal." He pushed him down again and Dagur doubted he could hold his breath for any longer.

Rough, yet gentle, hands brought him back to the surface and he looked around him, lethargically, _"Is this Valhalla?" _he wondered. The coldness from the water and pain that shot through him let him know that it was, in fact, still earth. He tried to see what happened, but his vision was blurry both from the stinging sea salt and his near unconsciousness. When he felt like he was no longer in water, he, vaguely, heard some shouting, but could not make any of it out. He strained to hear, but everything went black and mute.

The two Berkians were in a fury that exceeded speech. Gobber slugged Ansson across his face and Stoick hit him in the gut, finishing by bringing out his weapon and putting it to the viking's throat. "Ya can't kill me. Even attack me." Ansson said, arrogantly. "Want to bet on that?" Stoick raised his blade above his head. "I'm in Oswald's tribe," the viking said, hurriedly, "so only **he** can decide what happens to me." "The slime's got a point, Stoick." Gobber stated. The Berkian chief's arm shook as he wanted to run the viking through, but he put it back in its holder.

Stoick hit Ansson in the head with the flat part of his ax and grabbed him. Gobber, gingerly, picked up Dagur and the four went back to the hut. When they entered, Gobber went to a room near the wash area and placed Dagur down. Hiccup rushed over, "Is he okay?" he asked, panicking after seeing the gash on his friend. Dagur stirred and, slowly, opened his eyes. He didn't notice the others and went to clean his wounds. He was extremely groggy, but applied pressure on his thigh, stopping the blood flow. A bandage was tied to the gash and next, Dagur cleaned his arm. There was a compound fracture and he ended up tying it with a green binding, so that it could mend in place.

"You know how to do this pretty well, Dagur." Gobber commented. Dagur jumped, "Oh-uh, I-" "Do this often." Gobber finished, fuming, "You shouldn't have to, lad." The older viking walked over and checked on the boy's wounds, making sure they were taken care of, correctly. He nodded, impressed, but sad. Hiccup sat by the boy, "Thanks for protecting me." he said. Dagur nodded, "Of course." he smiled, then felt some blood in his mouth and rinsed it out. Hiccup and Gobber, then, helped the boy to his room upstairs.

Downstairs, Stoick threw Ansson's body at Oswald's feet. The Berserker chief. eyed the vikings, "Like I said. It was Apbon." Stoick's eyes widened in rage, "You have given this viking **three** **different** **names.** Who is he?!" he bellowed. Oswald rolled his eyes, "Ansson. If you care so much." "**This** is the guy who's been going after Dagur all this time?" The other chief nodded and the Berkian trembled in fury, "When you told me about this before, I thought that Dagur had a bully that was a kid. Look at him, Oswald! This is a grown man-at least, twenty years old and your son is eleven! Why are they even around each other without your supervision? He was about to die!"

"As long as **Dagur**," Oswald spat out the name like poison, "is out of my hair, I don't care what he does." Stoick looked hurt for the boy, "He's your son, Oswald. It's hard to understand our kids sometimes, but we still love them." "Speak for yourself, Stoick. I don't know what I did, but Odin's punishing me. How did such a peace-loving viking like myself get stuck with a crazy, violent, terror like Dagur as a...son." he struggled to say the last word. Oswald looked at Ansson, "Go back to your business. There's no punishment. If you don't go fast enough, I might adminish one for your failure."

Ansson strode out the door, "I'll do better next time." he said with a challenging look at Stoick-who almost accepted said challenge. "Chiefs protect their people and moreover parents protect their children. You're a failure as both." Stoick stated. Oswald glared, "All these times that I've gone to Berk and I've never berated **any** of your ethics or customs. Not even your, needlessly, violent tendencies. And here you are, doing just that to me." "I'd never give as big of a reason for scolding as you are." The two had a stand-off and Oswald broke the silence, "Vikings are a rowdy bunch. I find that they are most productive when their chief is present." he said, firmly. Stoick glared, "I'll get Hiccup and Gobber." he went to retrieve them and stopped short, "You know, Oswald, you are very caring about your status. If only you gave half as much to your son." Stoick collected the two Berkians and the ships headed back to their island.


	6. Changes

Three years had gone by since Stoick and Oswald had their disagreement. No quarrel occurred, but there was no visit to either kingdom even for the treaty-which they decided need not be renewed until further notice. The heirs missed seeing each other. Hiccup had a friend in Fishlegs, but it was not the same. He wanted a friend that was resourceful, adventurous, brave, and even a bit crazy. Fishlegs was a smart and kind-hearted boy, though not qualifying for any of those traits. Plus, there was no one to help him against Snotlout. Dagur was the only viking, that Hiccup knew, who was a good warrior and still did not treat him like he was less than a viking. Like he was a runt.

The Berserker heir, greatly, missed hanging out with the tiny Berkian. Hiccup was like his little brother and was fun. The boy was the only friend Dagur ever had. He did not cower in fear around him and call him insane or dangerous-as the other vikings his age would. Hiccup was never condescending or impatient when Dagur, genuinely, did not understand something. That you should not use your friends as target practice, for example. The Berserker could laugh and just be himself around his brother and Hiccup would not look ashamed. The boy was also the only one who had ever defended him in front of Ansson too and gotten him help.

Oh that Ansson. How Dagur hated him. The man still went after him, but Dagur was getting better at protecting himself. He no longer got serious injuries or would almost die, although he did not have any wins against the viking either. Ansson usually would tire out- due to the boy fighting back well-and decide to stop his attacks. Dagur trained and trained until exhaustion kicked in, and then he trained some more. In fact, he was practicing some combat drills when Oswald slammed the door on his way into the hut.

The chief slumped into his throne amd sighed, loudly. Receiving no response from Dagur, he sighed again. "I'm not fine, but thank you for asking." the man said, irritated. Dagur rolled his eyes and turned to face him, "No problem." he smiled. Oswald glared at him and the teenager grumbled, "What's wrong?" he inquired. This satisfied the chief and he stood, beginning pace around the room. "I can't stay cooped up here any longer. I have to leave. Go...**somewhere**."

Dagur rubbed his chin, "Where, though?" "Outside the archipelago." Oswald answered. The boy looked at him in surprise, "Outside? No one's ever heard of what's happened to vikings who go out there." he noted, quietly, excitement building within him. "When do we head out?" he smiled, crazily. The older Berserker gave him a look that implied he thought the boy had lost what was left of his sanity. "**We**?" he asked. Dagur nodded, enthusiastically. Oswald laughed, "There will be no **we**, Dagur. I will go alone." Dagur frowned, "Why? You aren't even bringing any other vikings with you?" The chief shook his head, "I've always wanted to travel around alone and survive the wilderness. Can't do that with an armada. Don't tell them either that I had planned this. They'll search everywhere for me."

Nervousness set itself into Dagur's core, "But, h-how long will you be gone and when are you leaving?" Oswald paused, "Not sure for either question. It'll be great fun." he beamed. "I've never led the Berserkers before." Dagur reminded him. "I know. **I've **been leading, have I not?" he inquired, arrogantly. The boy tried not to glare, "I mean that-" "Oh, it'll be great fun to see all there is." Oswald said, daydreaming about his future feats. The adolescent knew that nothing more that he might say would be heard and went to continue his exercises.

The next day, Dagur figured that needed to practice leading his people. He had tried before, but Oswald always got in the way. There was an argument between two merchants at the trading station. "I was here first! **You** have to leave." one bellowed. "Not on your life. I won't be tricked into believing you!" the other yelled. Dagur hurried over, "What's wrong? This place is coated in vendors. Since when does it matter **when** one comes over?" They looked at him, "That viking is trying to sell the same items that Iam. Trying to get me to move on top of it." The other Berserker scoffed, "Liar. I'm always here at **this** time, at **this** spot. Ask anyone." Dagur took the suggestion, "Is this true?" he inquired to some other vendors. They looked unconvinced, "Yes, but he normally sells something different. We can't blame the newcomer."

Before the squabble could begin again, Dagur looked at their items and spoke, "The two of you have scrap metal. They'll be different from each other, so buyers can come to both stands." The vikings looked over the other's stocks and, sheepishly, nodded, "You're right. He has more clunky metals and I have smooth supplies." A Berserker came from behind them and snorted, "You're not going to listen to Dainty are you? What does he know about anything?" Ansson questioned.

Dagur snarled at the viking, "Do **you** have a better idea?" Ansson puffed up, "Of course I do. Fight it out. Whoever's left standing can stay." he handed axes to the vikings. They shrugged and raised their weapons. "Stop!" Dagur said, hastily, "Kind of trying to avoid having them kill each other off." he, angrily, stated to Ansson. He turned to the merchants, "Save your executions for our enemies." They complied and Ansson snatched the axes back, pointing them at Dagur. "Should've known that ya'd do it the weak way, Dainty. Doubt you have a Berserker bone in your body. Maybe we should have a closer look to find out."

The Berserker swung the axes and slashed, wildly. Dagur, expertly, side-stepped and threw a knife at Ansson. The blade pierced the man's shoulder and he cried out. In a rage, he charged and was pushed into the scrap pile. While in the metal, Dagur managed to take an ax from the viking. Feeling his hand empty, the adult Berserker sent a hard kick into the teen's stomach. He, narrowly, missed lopping off the boy's leg as he sliced around. Metal clanged as the vikings brought their axes together in combat. Dagur went for the head and when Ansson moved, grazed his right eyebrow. Their quarrel moved around through the island and the older viking began to show fatigue. Exploiting this, Dagur went for the viking's right hand, causing him to drop his weapon. With disbelief and joy, the young Berserker raised his ax and went for the kill.

"Put down that ax, Dagur!" Oswald's voice resonated. The boy stood, numb, unable to release the weapon. He had come so close to ending Ansson. The Berserker ruler walked up to him, "Your chief gave you a command." he hissed. Dagur just stared at Ansson, so Oswald, forcibly, snatched the ax away from the viking. Grabbing him by his braid, Oswald marched to their hut. He swung the door open and flung the boy inside.

"You're trying to kill my Berserkers now? Is there no end to your savagery?" the chief inquired. "I'm not going to kill the others. Just Ansson. They'll never listen to me unless I have a kill like that under my belt." Dagur protested, "If anyone deserves it, he does." "Dagur, you know that I try to not get involved in what you do, but now you're affecting my people." Anger rose in the youth's chest, "They're my people too. The only reason the ordeal with Ansson happened in the first place was because I had almost resolved a conflict. Not sure if you realize this, but whenever you leave, I'll have to take over. I don't know how to lead a tribe! It doesn't help that half of the Berserkers think I'm a menace while the other half think I'm pathetic." "None of that is my problem, Dagur. They respect **me**. Am I to blame for your mental instabilities?" Oswald questioned. Dagur grunted, loudly, and threw a knife at the drawing of Ansson, imagining it to be his father. "I'm going to see if anything needs to be done that **I **can take care of." the boy said and walked out the door.

The next morning, Dagur got ready for the day and went downstairs. He gathered up some breakfast and went to check on things with the island. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary, so he made sure that the trading stations were all right that time. They had used what he suggested and the vikings had no disputes. Some hours passed and Berserkers began to look ansy. "What's with everyone?" he asked. "We haven't seen Oswald all day." Herald answered. The boy went to their hut and looked around the place. Going into his father's room he saw that all the chief's belongings were gone.

Dagur scoured the area of the hut. No signs of Oswald anywhere. "_He left. He just upped and left without giving me any ideas as to **where** or how long. I didn't even know he was going to leave today. Could've at least said goodbye."_ Dagur thought. He peeked out the door and saw all the vikings outside. Nerves worked double time, "_What do I say? He didn't want anyone to know. What if we get attacked? How do you lead a battle or make battle strategies?_" he felt himself begin to panic and took a deep breath. He knew he had to say **something**, so he exited the hut and faced the Berserkers.

"Your previous chief will not be leading you anymore." he stated. Murmurs followed and some vikings looked scared, "You two never got along." one said. "Yeah, and he had an ax in the hut last time I saw. Wouldn't want to be around **you** with a weapon." Dagur looked at them, shocked, "_They really think I killed him. I'd never-well, it does seem like a nice thought sometimes." _he saw their frightened faces and had a devious idea, "_This could be what I was looking for."_ Dagur squared his shoulders, "As you can see, **I'm **the new chief." "We'll never listen to you." Ansson called out. Dagur grabbed a sword from a Berserker and put it at the viking's throat, "What makes you think you have a choice?"

Hesitantly, the Berserkers bowed their heads in reverence and Dagur gave Ansson a cocky smile. The Berserker did not bow his head, but backed away. It was arranged that Dagur would get the customary chieftain tattoos on his eye and bicep. The process hurt, but he liked every bit. Each sting felt like power surging through his body as a new era came, a new dynasty; however some things will never be too new as Ansson soon had a tattoo as well. His was of him hitting Dagur on the head and was on his bicep. It even had the detail of the new blue claw tattoos on his face. "Like it, Dainty." he asked, instigatingly. Dagur growled, but knew it was pointless. Ansson did not matter anymore anyway. Berserker Island was **his** and there was no one to tell him what or what not to do. "_Better stay on your toes, Ansson," _he thought, "_there's a new alpha in this wolf pack."_ Dagur howled at the full moon's glory. The glory that seemed to reflect his own.


	7. Long Time No See

Three more years had gone by and Dagur was still leading the Berserkers. "Sir." Herald called, coming up to him, "There's a letter from Berk." he handed him the message. "Thanks." Dagur opened the note, "_To Oswald the Agreeable." _the viking frowned, "_We request that the peace treaty be signed within the next few days."_ The new chief thought, "_I've been so busy that I haven't had time to suggest the peace treaty. It'll be great seeing them again._" he beamed. He went down to the his hut and grabbed a piece of paper, beginning to write a response. "_Better start loading up the ships. We'll be_ _oing to Berk."_ he smiled, happily.

Hiccup stood with Stoick and saw as Gobber came up, "The Berserkers replied and said that they were on their way." Stoick looked pensive, "Hiccup, I think that you should put the dragons somewhere else." Hiccup raised an eyebrow, "Why? Oswald wouldn't want to kill any dragons and we can just ask Dagur not to." Stoick rested his chin in his hand, "I know, but it's been a while since we've seen them. Might not want to test the waters so soon. Word gets out about a dragon army and it could seem like we're planning an attack." Solemnly, Hiccup nodded, "All right. I'll tell the others."

Dagur stood on at the head of his ship as they sailed. Berk came into his sight and he brought out his spyglass. The Berkians looked so different than they had last time. Well, only Hiccup did, but still. As the ships pulled into the docks, Dagur's stomach was filled with butterflies. He heard as Herald announced him and the chief went down the ramp. The Berserker was met with confused expressions, but he gave Hiccup a big hug, "Brother!"

Before Dagur bombarded the three vikings with questions, Gobber spoke, "Dagur, what's this about you being chief?" The teenager released his friend and turned to the other viking, his huge smile faltering, "The Berserkers need a new leader-" "**Why** a new leader? Where's Oswald?" Stoick asked. "My father won't be around anymore, so someone else needs to take his place." he responded. A coldness came off of him that the three had never seen or felt before.

Dagur replaced his unreadable expression with a smile, "Let's get this treaty signed. It's past due time." The four began to go to the chief and heir's hut. As they walked, the Berserker stopped and frowned, "Where's the bottom of your leg?" he asked the thin Berkian, concerned. Hiccup chuckled, nervously, "I lost it when the Red Death attacked." Dagur, visibly, thought, "We were told about that dragon. Supposedly, you defeated it. Did you?" he inquired, interested. Stoick, subtly, gave his son a look and the boy replied, "How could I defeat him, Dagur? I probably only didn't get eaten because it couldn't see me." The Berserker looked unconvinced, but tried to believe his friend, "All right." he said, quietly.

They reached the hut and entered. Asking prior to being asked anything, Dagur started, "What's new around here? It's been forever." Hiccup thought and started, "Well, Snotlout and I are, kind of, friends now. In a complicated way, but he comes through." Dagur's eyes widened, "Really? How'd **that** happen?" The Berkian had forgotten about preparing for a follow up question and balked, "Um, we found something in common." Stoick intervened before Dagur could ask what that was, "Now that we're not out in the open, where's Oswald?"

Dagur's presence went cold again, "Why does that matter? He's not **here**; He's not **chief**. We could list off a whole load of things that he's not, in fact." Changing the subject, he commenced, "I've heard something interesting about your weaponry." "What's that?" Hiccup asked. "That you all are using dragons now. Like some kind of army. It's a good idea, if you can figure out how to do that." Dagur admitted. "We don't have an army of dragons. That's crazy talk." Gobber told. "Then, you wouldn't mind signing the treaty in dragon blood?" The Berserker chief questioned, skeptically. Hiccup paled, "Is that necessary?" Dagur eyed him, "It's tradition, isn't it?" "Oswald never found it to be required." Stoick interjected. Dagur kept his gaze cool, "There were a lot of things he didn't find required, but that doesn't mean he was right. Besides, it was just a question. Do you still kill dragons? I would have thought that you'd leap at the opportunity to sign in blood with a **real** chief."

"You're very young to be a chief at all, Dagur." Stoick stated and frowned. He saw that the viking was still using a green binding on his right arm, but there an additional part on the forearm. Dagur followed the chief's gaze and adjusted in the seat, "The longer the Berserkers have a chief, the better. It's more helpful that I start sooner than right before I'm on my deathbed."

"Care to see the armory?" Gobber asked, stopping Stoick from the glare that was beginning to form on his visage. Dagur grinned, "Always!" They went to look at the weaponry and the Berserker marvelled at the handiwork. "Gobber, my friend, you **are **good at what you do." he complimented, slicing the air with a sword. In the heat of the training moment, he almost threw the sword into a shield near the three. Stopping just before he did, Dagur put the weapon back. "They're really clean. No blood at all. I don't remember you guys keeping them so immaculate." "Times do change." Stoick told him. "That they do." the teenager replied, quietly.

"Perhaps, we should go to the hall for the traditional feast." Gobber suggested. They left the hut and a loud growling was heard. The vikings turned around to see nothing. "We really need to lubricate those catapults." Hiccup lied. Suspiciously, Dagur continued to walk and the Berkian chief lagged behind, "You need to get that Zippleback out of here." he whispered to Hiccup. The adolescent nodded and hurried off after the dragon. "Hiccup will meet up with us in a little bit." Stoick told Dagur. They went up to the meal area and the Berserker, subtly, took out a concealed object and put it near the entrance. "_Let's see how that works."_ he thought.

In the dining hall, Dagur kept receiving odd looks from the Berkians and heard whispers. Breaking the eerie silence, Mulch spoke, "A toast to Oswald the Agreeable!" The other vikings at the table cheered and it took everything for the new Berserker chief not to snap. "Oswald the **Cowardly.**" he whispered, spitefully. He glared at the yak leg on his plate and stabbed it, harshly, with his knife. "You never did stay, Che-Stoick." Dagur began, "**Do **you still kill dragons?" "Of course, we do. There just haven't been any attacks recently. We don't go looking for fights." Stoick informed. Dagur's brow rose, "So, if a dragon **were** here, we'd use it's blood to sign?" "I told you. We still kill dragons. They just aren't here now." Stoick pressed.

The meal continued on until the doors were swung open. A Hideous Zippleback ran into the building in a frenzy. Dagur smiled, broadly and drew his sword, "Looks like even the gods, themselves, want us to use a different ink for this treaty." He let out a deranged cackle, "Come on. That dragon's not going to slay itself!" Dagur rushed out of the hall to chase after the reptile, picking up the item he had left at the door. Hiccup brushed past Dagur and hurried into the hall, "Dad, it kept getting away from us and we can't find the twins!" he divulged, worriedly. Stoick looked at him, "Well, you better find them before he finds that Zippleback." The boy nodded and ran to find his friends.

Dagur thought about his troops, "_I have a whole armada that could, **easily, **take down that dragon. Why make it simple, though? I never get to kill dragons back home, so this'll be a great opportunity to prove I can."_ "What do we do, Sir?" Vorg inquired. "Nothing." Dagur answered, "I'll take care of this dragon alone." He looked at their inventory and grabbed some bolas and ropes. "Could use these, though." he mentioned and scurried off to hunt.

The young Berserker tracked the sound of the Zippleback running. "_Sure is a loud thing, isn't it?"_ he mused. The dragon came into his sight and he threw a bolas, tying the two necks together. Another bolas attached the tails, keeping them from being used as weapons. Chuckling, menacingly, Dagur walked to the two heads and sensed someone else around him. "Glad you could make it. Which head do you want?" he asked Stoick. The Berkian looked between the dragons, unsure of what to say. "Don't know? I can take the left one." Dagur offered and glanced at the other chief. "Supposed to do this **together**, you know." he said, in a sing-song way. Getting no response, he shrugged and began to raise his ax over his head.

As he brought down his weapon, a loud clang went through the air. Stoick's sword had blocked the younger viking's path of slashing. Rage boiled inside of the viking, "Why did you stop me?" he asked, through gritted teeth. "Because," Stoick started and spotted Hiccup put of his peripheral vision, "dragon killing is done in the arena. Wouldn't be customary to just do it anywhere for the treaty." Dagur calmed down and put back his ax. "Very well, then." He walked towards the arena and Stoick went over to his son, "I bought you some time, but you need a plan **now**." The chief went after the other leader, leaving the young vikings to speculate on how to solve the rising issue.

At the arena, the Zippleback had been tied to the ground and was squirming, incessantly, to get free. Dagur went up to the left head, but before he could sever anything, a Monstrous Nightmare entered the stadium. "Dragon attack!" Hiccup yelled. Dagur looked around him to see a Gronckle and Deadly Nadder arrive. "You have to leave! Stay safe." Gobber tried to convince the Berserker and covered him with his own body. "No!" the viking yelled, pulling away, "I won't just run away and hide." Dagur turned to look at the Zippleback, _"You got this, Dagur. Be a chief and protect-something Dad would **never** do." _he thought. He grabbed a spear and threw it right at one of the dragon's heads and a blast saved the reptile.

In awe, Dagur watched as a sleek, black dragon snarled at him. "A Night Fury. They haven't gone extinct." he smiled. Hiccup stepped in front of him with a shield and that was when Dagur snapped out of his trance-like state. "Brother, what are you doing? Get behind me." he told him. "I've dealt with this dragon before, Dagur." Hiccup said. Unbeknownst to the older viking, the Berkian made a hand motion to the dragon. Toothless continued to growl and had a strange look in his eyes. "_That's not the command, Bud. __What's going on?"_ Hiccup wondered.

The Night Fury's focus went behind his rider and to the Berserker. He charged and Dagur maneuvered out of the way. The viking went for a weapon, "Wait!" Hiccup called, "You'll only provoke him further." he tried to say. He did another hand motion telling the dragon to leave. Toothless shook his head to clear it and looked at his friend. Finally being able to comprehend the request, he went away.

"I guess, you were right, Hiccup." Dagur commended. "But, are you **sure** they won't just be back in a few minutes?" Hiccup looked after the dragons, confused, "Uh, y-yeah. They won't return for a long time. Probably should do that treaty, though, now." The chiefs went to the hall and signed the paper in normal ink. The Berserkers left on their ships and Hiccup called the dragons back to the riders. "What happened, Bud?" Hiccup asked Toothless. "Something wrong, Son?" Stoick inquired. "Not sure. Toothless wasn't responding to the hand motions like we had practiced before." The boy rubbed the dragon behind his ears.

Dagur sat in his throne at Berserker Island. "Dragon Island, General Herald. It's well-named and just what I might need." The Berserker soldier eyed him in askance. "Hiccup **knew** that dragon. I need to also and I'm one step closer than before." "How so, Dagur?" he was asked. Dagur pulled out something and put it on the table, "For starters, we know that Dragon Root attracts and messes with the reptiles of its namesake. Trust me, Herald, that will be **very** helpful in the near and far future."


	8. Dragon Island

Dagur sat in the forest on Dragon Island. The head of a Monstrous Nightmare sat to his right, invigorating him to continue his hunts. The boy had taken down many dragons in his attempt to learn how they operated. It was dark, so he had started a fire and was cooking a yak leg on the flame. A noise caught his attention and he went on the offensive. Whatever it was came into his camping ground and he tackled it to the dirt.

His eyes widened when he saw Hiccup and he got up off the small boy. "What are you doing here?" he asked, rasing the Berkian back to his feet by his shoulders. Hiccup was flustered, "I'm here because.." he dragged out. Dagur's brow rose and he offered something, "Because you're hunting dragons? Seems like the only reason unless you got stranded." A light turned on in Hiccup's head, "Yes, I'm hunting dragons." "Alone?" his friend pressed. "Kind of." Hiccup tried. Dagur eyed him, suspiciously, and then beamed brighter than the sun, "Well, great then!"

"Do you know what this means?" the Berserker asked, excitedly. Hiccup rubbed his neck, "Not really." "It means," Dagur began, "that we can hunt dragons together! It'll be so fun. Come on. I'll show you what I've won." He put his arm over Hiccup's shoulder and brought him to the fire. Dagur pulled the dragon head out and placed it between them, "Isn't it cool? It's one of my first trophies, so I'll bring this back home when I leave. Maybe my bedroom would be a good place for it. Ooh! Or the throne room. Which do **you** think?" he asked, with an innocence that would not fit someone inquiring as to a good skull location.

Hiccup was repulsed by the poor creature's corpse being treated as nothing more than a new piece of furniture and mumbled, "Throne room, I guess." "Yeah, that'll remind people who they're dealing with." Dagur reached behind him to grab something else. A Deadly Nadder spine was in his hand, "Dumb thing shot me in the leg with this. Still got it, though! They ahould take the **deadly** out of its name."

"Gronckles aren't all that either. Sure, they're faster than I thought and pretty fun to take down, though." He took the yak leg out and laughed, crazily, then stopped on a dime, "You're looking a bit green, brother. Are you okay?" Hiccup swallowed the bile that was piling up to his throat, "Is that-" he paused. Dagur looked at the meat and chuckled, "No, it's yak. Don't think I'm in any rush to try dragon." he made a disgusted face. Hiccup was beginning to relax, but after Dagur finished chewing a bite, he asked, "Hey, Hiccup. Did that Night Fury ever come back?" The tension flew to return to the Berkian, "It, uh, got away. Real shame." Hiccup was unsure how, but his friend shone even brighter than before.

"Our fortune's even better than I'd hoped!" he said, theatrically, "Hiccup, my friend, we're going to take down that Night Fury tonight. Picture it!" he held the smaller boy sideways and used his other arm to gesture in the sky, "The Berkian heir and Berserker chief working to rid all of viking kind from the tyranny of the unholy offspring of lightning and death, itself. No one could think any less of us, no matter how hard they tried!"

Dagur grabbed his crossbow and put his sword and ax in their sheaths that were on him. "With us working side by side, that beast won't stand a chance. What did you bring?" Hiccup glanced down at his lack of conventional weaponry, "A shield. Just a normal shield. Gobber always says it's the most important weapon." The Berserker gave a, somewhat, agreeing nod and stayed in front of Hiccup, should any dragon pop out. A rustling was heard and Dagur prepared his crossbow. Hiccup was about to hit the bow, messing up his shot, when Snotlout emerged.

Dagur could not help the scowl that formed on his face. "We're cool now, remember?" Hiccup whispered, noticing the coldness that was emitting from the older viking. "Right, right. That's easy to forget, though. I guess, this is why you said you were **kind of** alone. Might as well been by yourself." Dagur said the last part, under his breath. "Dagur!" Snotlout said, in an overly happy way that was not helping his cause. "What are **you** doing here?" the dark haired viking asked. "Hunting dragons, Snot-" Dagur eyed Hiccup and sighed, "-lout." If this were one of Hiccup's friends, he would be nice and not use one of the many derivatives of the teenager's name.

"What?" Snotlout questioned, receiving a look from Hiccup. "Yes, we're hunting dragons because that's what we do as vikings. It'd be weird to do anything else. right?" the Berkian heir tried to cover, "Go up ahead, Dagur. I'll tell him our plan." The Berserker complied and Hiccup was able to explain the situation. "Oh," Snotlout said, numbly, when he had completed, "We're not really going to kill any dragons, though, are we?" "Of course not. But, I just have to find a way to get him to quit and then we're in the clear." he assured. Hiccup went back to Dagur with Snotlout in tow. The latter viking's scream, coupled with one of a newcomer, drew them to see Fishlegs.

"Fishy!" Dagur exclaimed, happily. Snotlout grumbled, "How come **I **didn't get that reaction?" "You're hunting dragons too? Seems out of character for you." Dagur commented. Fishlegs asked Hiccup for help with his eyes and was given and, subtle, nod. "Yes," the boy said, trying to sound confident, "I'm hunting dra-I'm hunting." He left it at that because he could not get himself to say such a terrible fusion of words. "I'm glad you're here. As much as you know about dragons, you'll be a great help. Plus, it's been too long, pal." Dagur told him, putting a hand on his shoulder. They continued on and Fishlegs stopped Hiccup, "What do we do when he finds one of our dragons?" he asked, in a harsh whisper. "He won't find any of them. They're in the cave, remember?" Hiccup stated. Fishlegs scoffed, "Yeah, being watched by **Tuffnut**. Not the most comforting situation I've been in, Hiccup."

They walked on and the bushes moved in front of them. "Let's see. Friend or foe? We'll find out, won't we?" Dagur said, drawing his crossbow. A head popped out of the foliage and it was Toothless. "We did it, brother! We found the Night Fury!" He cackled as his finger was about to pull the trigger on the bow. A cluster of Terrible Terrors swarmed around him and made him miss as Hiccup thanked Odin. Astrid came out of the trees, angrily. "You made me lose them. They were right in my sight!" Dagur shrugged her off, "Hey, I was here first. Besides, Terrible Terrors are, small, burly cakes compared to a Night Fury. And Hiccup, I know you said 'kind of', but the answer should have been 'no'."

Dagur kept going after Toothless and Astrid looked at the other vikings, "Hiccup, what are you guys doing? He's hunting Night Furies?" "I know, I know. Toothless was supposed to be safe up in that cave. I'll figure it out." he said, hurriedly, seeing Dagur coming back for him. "Go back to Berk. You've already made us lose the Night Fury once." he told them, as he was being dragged away. The sound of a large dragon walking made Dagur stop. He saw a blast coming and pushed Hiccup to the ground. "Get down." the Berserker stated, simultaneously as he forced the boy to do the action. "You good?" he wanted to confirm and Hiccup nodded.

Sadness came over Hiccup. _"Dagur really **is** my friend, but so is Toothless. How do I make it so that they don't kill each other?"_ he wondered. From the corner of his eye, he saw Dagur raise his bow. Hiccup hit the weapon and it took everything for Dagur not to bite his head off, almost in a literal way. "Mind explaining that?" the Berserker inquired, with a calm air that was more disturbing than rage. "Night Furies are really sensitive and he would've known that we were on his trail." Hiccup lied, through his teeth. Dagur pondered over that for a moment, "Fair enough." He lowered the weapon and walked on.

"You didn't bring the armada or anything, did you?" Hiccup inquired. Dagur shushed him and listened for a sound. Hearing none, he answered, "Nope. Just me. It would defeat one of my purposes for coming out here in the first place, if they helped me." Dagur divulged. Hiccup let out a breath he had been holding after learning that. The hunt raged on and Toothless was going to be cornered between them and a rock wall. "_Why did that shot have to mess up his tail?" _Hiccup lamented. The dragon was trapped and there was only one thing, Hiccup could think of, to do.

The dragon trainer made a call and Toothless went to his side. Dagur stared in shock at the two and saw something. "He has a saddle?" he asked. "Yes, we don't kill dragons on Berk." Hiccup confirmed, "We train them." Dagur felt numb, "So you, your father, Gobber, Fishy. Everyone lied to me?" he asked, more to himself than to receive an answer. "I never wanted to, but it seemed like the only way to keep peace between our tribes." Tremors went through Dagur's body, "The only way was to make me look stupid and act as though I'm your enemy?" his voice raising.

"We weren't treating you like an enemy." Hiccup stated, getting frustrated. "Then why didn't you just tell me?" Dagur pressed. The Berkian hesitated, "Because, we weren't sure if you would turn against us." Hurt was evidently on Dagur's face, "You don't trust me. You all think I'm just some crazed viking too. I wouldn't have been angry about the dragons. That's **cool** to train them. It could have been another bonding thing for us!" "Dagur, I didn't know if you'd be dangerous with a dragon at your command. You're not the most sane viking ever. I mean, you've tried to use me as a target for your knife throwing! You have to be monitored." Hiccup said.

Dagur looked at the Berkian. He did not know what to think, "_Has he really been my friend or did he just think I had to be watched? If that's the case, why did he help me against Ansson?"_ he wondered. Hiccup sat, uncomfortably, on Toothless. Dagur was never so silent and it concerned him. "Say something, Dagur." he requested. "You've never called me 'brother'." he replied, sadly, "We've been like buds, Hiccup. You acted like it too. You didn't have to help me with Ansson, but you did. Did you do that because we're friends or because it seemed like the right thing to do?"

Hiccup stayed quiet, looking for how to convince the teenager that they were really friends. "You shouldn't have thought that I'd do that. I wouldn't hurt any of you. Not purposely." Dagur retorted. The other viking's eyes lowered, "Where do we go from here? Are we still allies?" he asked, with a pleading expression. Dagur saw that and it reminded him of how he must have looked when his father spoke about leaving. He began to pace. Berserkers were a vengeful bunch, but he did not want to go after Hiccup.

He stopped pacing, aburptly. "I want us to be allies still. **Brothers** even." He started to pace again in fury and anxiety. The boy let out a roar that made Hiccup shrink and Toothless snarl. Dagur saw this and frowned, "Really? We're settling this yak dung now." The Berserker marched over to the dragon, "Are these things good at judging people?" he asked. Hiccup looked at his reptilian buddy, "Yeah. I think so." "Then, sick him on me." Dagur stated, firmly. Both the dragon and his rider's eyes went wide. "W-what?" Hiccup stammered. "I don't stutter. Well, sometimes, but I didn't." Dagur said and Hiccup almost shook his head at him, but was too tense.

"I'm **not** siccing him on you, Dagur." Hiccup said. Dagur crossed him arms, "I'll be fine. He won't hurt me because I won't you. Trust me, Hiccup. For once, if you never have before." He outstretched his arms in a peaceful stance and kept his gaze cool. Hiccup took a deep breath and patted the dragon's head, dismounting. "All right, Bud. If there's a threat around here...e-eliminate it." The Berkian's heart pounded in his throat as he watched the Night Fury run over to Dagur. Hiccup closed his eyes when he heard the sound of the dragon's plasma blast preparing.


	9. Filling in

Toothless's plasma blast fired out and made contact. It was not until Hiccup heard a dragon cry, that was not of his own reptile's, that he stopped panicking. A Monstrous Nightmare was climbing down from the rocky wall and Dagur had been so focused on proving himself, that he had not noticed it. The wild dragon shot a blast back at Toothless, who rolled out of the line of fire. The Night Fury tried to go back to his rider, so that he could fly in the battle, but was blocked by a large blast.

Altering tactics, Toothless went for the dragon's neck and flipped it onto the grass, causing them to grapple on the ground. As they moved around, they went further into the forest and away from the wall. Hiccup chased after the Night Fury and Dagur followed. Spotting a large branch, Hiccup used his shield's launcher to snag the tree. He gave a hard tug and the branch fell onto the Monstrous Nightmare's head. The wild dragon glared at the boy and swatted his long tail, which knocked the shield out of Hiccup's hands. Then, the dragon opened his mouth as a large stream of flames exited the reptile's mouth, but Toothless was too far from his friend to help.

Hiccup knew that he was not fast enough to avoid the entire path of the fire and tried to brace himself. He felt heat, but no burn and could feel his body being kept in a ball. Dagur had grabbed the shield and ran over to Hiccup, holding him behind the protection so that none of him would be exposed to the flames. The blast ended when Toothless dug his fangs into the other dragon's leg. No longer needing to worry about third degree burns, Dagur released Hiccup and handed him back his shield. "I like it." he commented, lightly, "Reminds me of.." he trailed off and pulled out his crossbow again.

The Berserker aimed the bow at the Monstrous Nightmare. "Don't kill it." Hiccup protested. Dagur rolled his eyes, "I wasn't going to, since you said that you guys are all buddy, buddy with them now. Just a nice sting should do." The arrow whizzed through the air and punctured the thick flesh on the dragon's shoulder. It cried out and fled. "They seem to be sensitive up there. A little something I picked up while-" Dagur eyed Toothless, "you know." "We'll have to remember that." Hiccup told him, petting the Night Fury's head. The older viking put away his weapon, "Well, the only one who left was that dragon. Are you going to trust that **your** dragon didn't and doesn't think I'm a threat to you? He could still attack me, if I were."

Hiccup smiled at the Berserker, "I think, that he's good at judging people. If he really trusts you, I do too. And," he rubbed the back of his neck, "I'm sorry for lying." Dagur gave him a pat on the shoulder, which could have sent the boy flying, "As long as you don't make a habit out of it, we can be cool." he grinned. Dagur looked at the Night Fury, "Did you call him 'Toothless'? He has teeth, though." he stated, confused and bending down to see if he had been wrong. Toothless gave an ornery, toothy smile. Hiccup laughed, good-naturedly, "Yes to both. They're retractable, so after I saw that, I decided that I wanted it name be his name."

The dragon drew his teeth in and out as Dagur observed, intrigued. "So he's how you were able to take down the Red Death?" "Yep. He was right there with me the whole time." Hiccup said, smiling at the dragon. "Was it hard to train him? Seems like it would be difficult." the older viking noted, "How did you avoid getting eaten?" "Interestingly." Hiccup divulged, "I shot him down with a catapult, trying to prove that I could. That's why his tail is split." Dagur's eyes went to the Night Fury's tail, noticing the manufactured half, "He needs you for him to fly now, huh?"

Sadly, Hiccup nodded, "I tried to make it right by building him the new tail, but it didn't work without a rider to take care of the controls. We started to bond and now we're best friends." An odd expression went over Dagur's face, "You've made a lot of friends recently." The Berkian smiled as he thought of how the other vikings had changed, "Yeah, I have." Dagur brought his attention back to Toothless, "He's cool. And Dangerous-that's what makes him so cool in the first place."

Toothless was, clearly, enjoying the attention and made a disappointed grunt when Hiccup said that they had to head back to Berk. "The others will get worried otherwise." the boy explained. "Okay. I should probably go check on the Berserkers too." Dagur stated, somewhat solemnly. "We can make sure that you get back to your ship all right. Toothless is an even better fighter when he can fly." Hiccup offered. His friends lit up, "Sure. It's this way." Toothless gave a happy roar and followed after the Berserker. Dagur got into his ship and raised the sails, waving goodbye to Hiccup. The Berkian waved back and flew off with the Night Fury.

Hiccup and Toothless caught up with the other riders, quickly. "What took so long?" Snotlout asked, impatiently. "Are you okay? How'd you make it out of there?" Astrid inquired, giving the dark haired boy a glare. "I'm fine. I told Dagur about our dragons." Hiccup explained. "What?" the twins asked in sync, as the other riders gazed at the boy, wide eyed. "I'll tell you more on the way." the heir promised. They made their way to Berk and Hiccup went to his hut to find his father.

Stoick was putting two ice blocks on his head when Hiccup entered the hut. "Son, how did your training go?" he inquired. "It was..different. I need to tell you something." his son stated. The chief sat upright in his throne, "Are you all right?" "Yeah. I wanted to tell you that while we were on Dragon Island, Dagur was there too." Hiccup saw his father's brow raise and continued, "I told him about how we train dragons." he could see that Stoick was about to become upset, "He was fine with it. A little hurt that I had lied, but overrall fine."

Surprise went over the Berkian chief's face, "Really?" He took the ice blocks off and leaned against the back of his chair. "I suppose, I thought his 'deranged' side would overpower any sense of morality that he had. I'm glad I was wrong...in this scenario." Hiccup eyed his father, suspiciously, "What do you mean?" "His father, Hiccup. Everyone knows **why** Dagur is the Berserker chief instead of him and it's not because Oswald retired." Stoick stated, matter-of-factly.

The Berkian frowned, "I know what others think, but I can't bring myself to agree. I can't remember their relationship, although I just couldn't imagine Dagur doing that. It doesn't seem like him to do something so evil." Stoick shrugged, "No one was there to confirm what happened, so it could have been a number of reasons. I **did** see their relationship, however barely. It wasn't a good one and Oswald's been missing for a while. I hope that Dagur didn't, but I can't be sure." Toothless nuzzled up to Hiccup and the two shared a similar thought.

The Berserker chief's ship pulled into his island's harbor, being greeted by vikings. "Chief, how did the dragon hunting go? Did you gain any trophies?" Captain Vorg inquired. Dagur smiled, broadly, "Very well and I did, but I left them in the island." Confusion was plastered on Vorg's face, "Why?" "Because, I'm no longer interested in killing dragons." The captain's jaw, nearly, unhinged as it dropped to the floor, "Since when?" "Since I discovered that the Berkians **train** their dragons. That's a lot cooler than just disposing of them."

Dagur's face lit up like a fire, "And there's one dragon, in particular, that I'd **love **to train." Herald came into the conversation, "I hope that we use it to attack those lying Berkians." he sneered. "No, I settled that with Hiccup. We're still at peace with Berk and I don't intend on changing that." Dagur told him. "It would be too much like right for ya to actually behave like a Berserker, wouldn't it." A new voice added. The chief groaned as he turned to face Ansson. "A Berserker would fill you with wood." Dagur said, raising his crossbow, "Still want me to act, traditionally?"

Ansson was reluctant to back off of the topic, "We're a vengeful bunch and that's a fact. It's a coward's move to stand for being made to look like a fool. What's with the feigned sense of sanity, anyway?" Dagur lowered his weapon, "Think of it this way- if that's even possible-if we learn how to train dragons, we'll be unstoppable. There wouldn't be a tribe even past the archipelago that could rival us." A lethal twinkle shone in the young chief's eyes. This satisfied the older viking for the time being, "As long as it's nothin' **sentimental**." he stated the word as though it were the embodiment of weakness.

"It's none of your business **why** I make my desicions or orders, just that you know how to follow them." Dagur said, firmly. Ansson left, in a huff, pushing past Vorg and Herald. They scowled aftef the man as the chief went to his hut. He closed the door and sat in his favorite chair, pondering. It was difficult to concentrate and the viking knew why. The house felt empty, as it always did. Not wanting to think about that and deciding to use his time, wisely, Dagur grabbed a large book and refreshed his memory on a certain lightning directing, dragon.


	10. An Electric Situation

The Berkian ship of Mulch and Bucket pulled into the harbor, followed by Berserker vessels. They pulled up to the docks as the two Berkians ventured to speak with their chief. Stoick was already near the boatyard and was curious as to why the visitors were there. "Mulch, Bucket, what is the meaning of all this?" he inquired. "When we were out fishing, we found something. A-" Mulch began. "A dragon!" Bucket interrupted, excitedly, "A big one too." The smaller viking frowned, "I was getting to that, Bucket. The Berserkers say that it's a Skrill."

Stoick gazed at them, blandly, "That doesn't explain why they're here, though." He looked over their shoulders and saw Dagur descending from the boat. "Dagur wants to see if we can help them train it. That's all we know." Mulch informed. The younger chief approached them. "Hello, Stoick. I'm guessing they told you why we're here." he said. The elder viking eyed him, cautiously, "In a way." Dagur used his head to gesture to the Skrill that was encased in ice and waved to Gobber who was coming over.

"That Skrill has been the symbol of our people for as long as the records have existed. I'd really appreciate it if Hiccup would help me train it." Dagur explained. Gobber chuckled, "Dagur, that dragon's been in ice for Thor knows how long. It won't be any good to ya." The Berserker was resolute, "They can regulate their body temperatures whenever necessary. He's not dead, just dormant. All we have to do is thaw him out and then we can start training." he beamed, then added "If you don't mind, that is."

Gobber looked at his best friend in askance and Stoick gave a sigh, "Find Hiccup, would ya, Gobber?" The metal working nodded and went to look for the boy. "Hiccup!" he called. Hearing a muffled reply, he went over and saw smoke covering the dragon training arena. "What happened in here?" he asked. Hiccup coughed, "The twins, mainly. What brings you here? You hardly ever come." Gobber was still looking at all the smoke that was in the stadium, "Dragons sure can be a deadly weapon to have, huh?" he stated, more to himself than as a question.

"Yes, but in the right hands, they're great protection instead of arsenal." Hiccup told him. That snapped the welder out of his trance, "Uh, Dagur and his Berserkers are here." The boy's eyes widened, "Why'd they come? Are they all right?" "They're fine, but Mulch and Bucket found a Skrill and the Berserkers want you to help them train it." the man answered. Hiccup ran a hand through his hair, pondering, "I don't know if I should. Um, what do they need it for?" Gobber shrugged, "Didn't say. Only said that they wanted it trained. They're right in the village, you can just go and ask. Your father **and** you won't be using me as a messenger." Gobber grumbled, walking back to the main part of the island.

Hiccup, Fishlegs, and Astrid went to see what the reason for the sudden dragon need was. "Hey, Dagur." Hiccup addressed. "Brother! Hey, Fishy, and Astrid." the Berserker gave a nod of acknowledgement to the others. "Heard that a Skrill was found." Hiccup stated. His friend nodded so enthusiastically that he feared his head might pop off his shoulders. "Isn't it great fate? Odin must want us to have it on our island." Fishlegs spoke up, "But, what do you need it for? You won't be able to ride it." Dagur looked at him, "I know. I just want him to be there. If anyone attacks, he can help us defend our island. Plus, I can still hang out with him. Just not fly due to the whole...lightning channeling thing." He gestured in the air with hands, implying the electricity.

Hiccup looked at the icy Skrill, "Could you guys move it to the arena?" The Berkians agreed to and began to haul it away. "Sooo, does this mean that we'll train it?" A smile formed on Dagur's face. "It means that I don't want it blocking the whole dock area." Hiccup admitted, "Let's talk more about this dragon first." "Fine by me." Dagur complied. "What do you know about Skrills?" Fishlegs asked, wondering if the older boy had the same amount of knowledge as their outdated legends. "I know that it draws its power from the lightning in storms. It can't create the blasts, but does store the electricty in his body for multiple shots and later distributions. It'll fly into the clouds, if spooked, so that it **can** find some lightning too. Also, that you have to keep it in water, if you haven't done the training. Otherwise, it'll just probably blast you, but they can't fire in the water."

The mouths of the three Berkian youths were gaping. "Wow," Astrid cooed, shocked, "He's putting **Fishlegs** to shame." Dagur grinned, "We have a lot of books and notes that've been written on Skrills. They've always been so fascinating to me, so I've read every one that I could find about a thousand times. They're, pretty much, memorized word for word now. The information is definitely welded to my brain." Hiccup looked at the two riders and back at Dagur, "You'd just use him as protection?" "Yep. Just that. I promise that I won't go off and try to lay siege to some place with him. He should be **treasured**, not treated as a weapon."

Hiccup gave in, "All right." he stated, "I'll help you, then." He was met with a bone crushing hug, "Thank you, Hiccup!" "A-air." the small boy squeaked out. "Whoops." Dagur let him go and the heir caught his breath. An explosion was heard and the vikings' heads snapped in its direction. "What, in the name of Thor, caused that?" Dagur asked. Hiccup turned ashen, "The arena doesn't **just** have the Skrill in it." In an instant, Dagur was running to the stadium.

The chief was there way before the others were and saw the Skrill out of the ice and in its full glory. It was frightened and about to fly away. "No, don't leave, Skrilly. Daddy's here. It's okay-" he started, calmly. Another boom cut him off. Barf and Belch had caused a blast that made Hookfang spark up, both spooking the Skrill and making it flee. Dagur's eyes shot knives at the twins and Snotlout. "You scared him away!" he bellowed. The three, visibly, cowered at his rage. "You thought it was a good idea to leave the Skrill with **them?**" the Berserker asked Hiccup, acusingly, just as the boy arrived to the scene.

Sheepishly, Hiccup spoke, "It sounds worse out loud." "No, it was just a bad idea." Astrid commented, earning a glare from the trainer. "Well, he'll be looking for some food now. They eat cod, mainly, so we have to the East water. If we hurry, we should be able to catch him." Dagur said, cooling down to be more productive. The riders mounted up and the Berserker started to go to his ship. "Dagur, you said we had to hurry. The best way to do that is flying, not sailing." Hiccup told him. Snotlout smiled, "You can ride with me! Hooky's the best." In pure, ornery, spite, Hookfang sparked up and lit the boy's bottom on fire.

Snotlout yelped and ran to the nearest water bucket, leaving Dagur to raise his eyebrow, "Well, I'm not riding on **that** dragon." Hiccup chuckled, "I didn't expect you to. You can ride with me on Toothless." The dragon smiled up at the Berserker, who returned the expression and, carefully, climbed onto his back. The dragons took to the sky in a flash, causing Dagur to try his best not to crush Hiccup as he held on. They sped through the air and Dagur dared to look at their surroundings. His eyes lowered and went to the ground. The ground that was so far away from them.

He could not tear his vision from the ground and saw trees and water zoom by with a speed he had never seen before. The wind blew and made for mild turbulence. This was natural to the riders, but gave Dagur nausea. The boy paled and closed his eyes. "You okay back there?" Hiccup finally asked, noticing his long silence. There was a quiet, "mhmm" as Dagur set his mind on the dragon to distract him, "D-do you see the Skrill?" he asked Hiccup, struggling to keep the nauseous chills from happening. "Not yet." the boy answered. "_Oh Thor, we have to do **more **of this?" _Dagur thought, miserably.

"Are your eyes closed?" Hiccup inquired, wondering why his friend had asked that. After a slight pause, Dagur replied, "They **were** opened, but everything's going by so quickly." Fishlegs contemplated, "I've felt the same before. I still do sometimes." he admitted, "You can't look down, not for the first few times. Just look at the sky and you'll see how nice it is up here." Hesitantly, Dagur took the advice and , slowly, opened his eyes. He looked at the sun and the clouds over the seas. The water sparkled from the sun's light. It was all beautiful up there.

He stared at the scenery in awe, "Thank you, Fishlegs." the chief said, gratefully. The younger viking smiled in response. Dagur brought his attention to something else and squinted, "He's over there." Dagur alerted, pointing, "Down on the rocks." "What do we do?" Astrid asked, looking at the Skrill finishing up his meal. The Berserker pondered, "Set me down right there." "Uh, Dagur, I know you go by 'Deranged', but that seems a **bit** risky, don't you think?" Snotlout inquired. Dagur shrugged, "Risky? Sure, but he'll be spooked if we all start chasing him. Worst comes to worst, I'll go over to the rocks there and you can get me. Sound fair?"

"Sounds interesting!" the twins beamed, wringing their hands with anticipation. Toothless began to hover over the area Dagur had pointed out and he jumped off the dragon. The Skrill sensed him and turned, snarling. "Dagur." Hiccup started. The Berserker shooed him away and focused his attention on the dragon. "Hey, there Skrilly. You're a bit confused about why we're here, aren't you?" The Skrill was intrigued by the boy and, momentarily, halted his growling. "Well, I'd love to give you a nice home on my island. You'd love it. It's big, has plenty of cod-" This caused the reptile to perk up, "Oh you like that, huh?" the boy laughed.

"You won't have to worry about being hungry or alone ever again. If you ever want to blast something, I'll prepare a whole area for you. A really cool place, in particular. **Whatever** you'd like, I'd get for you. We can be best friends. How does that sound?" Dagur inquired. The Skrill tilted his head and his eyes had a peaceful look in them. It started walking over to Dagur with his head lowered. The boy was unsure on what to do, but it felt natural to pet the dragon and he, happily, complied with the instinct.

Dagur felt joy bubble inside of him as the palm of his hand went against the Skrill's forehead. He gave an enormous smile to the dragon riders and they gave him a thumbs up. Despite his exultation, he frowned. "Skrilly, you have to move now." he said, panic rising in his throat. The dragon did not understand why and stayed still. "Move!" The boy tried to push the large dragon out of the way, but was too late and chains came and incapacitated the Skrill.

Dagur ran to get the chains off the dragon and a fleet of Outcasts arrived. Their weapons were drawn and they ran up to him. He drew his sword and slit the throat of one, and used his ax to lop off the head of another. The riders sent blasts at the Outcasts to help, but there were so many that they were unable to defend themselves **and** the dragon. The Skrill was hauled onto Alvin's ship and it sailed away, leaving the Outcasts that had gone on the land, completely. Soon, the attackers were defeated and Dagur ran to the edge of the rocks, "Skrilly!" he called into the fog. He could see nothing and only heard a pitiful squawk in response. A more ferocious roar followed, but it had derived from the Berserker.


	11. Strategy

Dagur paced back and forth on the rocks, seeming as though he might walk a trench into the ground. Steam, practically, spewed from his head. Snotlout punched his right hand into his left palm, "I say we go in blasting." the boy offered, patting Hookfang's head. The Berserker rubbed his temple, "No, we can't do that. It would be great, but they'll be expecting that." he frowned, "And we can't just wait for them to act first, either. They don't have a clue what they're doing with my Skrill and will only end up hurting him."

Dagur stopped his pacing long enough to have a sly grin, "We need to do something they won't see coming. Something so, seemingly, reckless that Alvin'll be too busy thinking we're stupid to actually know what we've planned!" he laughed and received concerned looks from the riders. After Dagur, awkwardly, cleared his throat, Hiccup spoke, "What are you suggesting?" The eldest viking looked at him, "We're going to trick good ol' Al by making him think that I've betrayed you all for my dragon." The riders looked unconvinced, "Why would he care, though? Wouldn't he just attack you?" Astrid inquired. Dagur shook his head, "Nope. Because," he sang, "I know Skrills and he doesn't. As much as he'd love to fling his fleet at the first outsider to his island, he knows that he needs help. When they least expect it, I'll free the dragon and go to their coast. That's where you all can be hiding, in case my Berserkers and I need backup."

The twins began to bounce, "Will there, by chance, happen to be a large scale battle at the conclusion of your strategy?" Tuffnut asked, properly. "Is there any other way to end something?" Dagur retorted, with a twinkle in his eyes. The twin, nearly, fainted off of his dragon's head, warranting a punch from his sister. Hiccup rolled his eyes at the display, "Oh gods." he whispered, exasperated, "Alvin is the most ruthless viking I've ever met, Dagur. He's earned that moniker of his and won't hesitate to show that." Hiccup stated, worriedly. "Don't worry, brother. All I've got to do is outtreacher the treacherous." the Berserker smiled. "Plus with my armada on my side, it'll make things a lot easier."

The chief led a quarter of his ships into Outcast Island's perimeter. The former Berkians called their alarm, "Intruders approaching!" Alvin marched up to see and drew his sword. He eyed the boy, "Dagur the Deranged, eh?" The Berserker nodded in response, "I came here to make a proposition. Can we dock?" Dagur gestured to the shore. With a grunt, Alvin motioned for the ships to come further. The vikings secured their vessels to the docks and Alvin went over to Dagur, "All right, you're docked. Now, what is it ya can do for me?" The chief smirked, "It's a known fact that you want Berk; however, it's been a bit hard to obtain, am I right?" Alvin scowled, "Movin' on. How're ya gonna fix that?" "With that Skrill. You'll need my help with it, if you don't want it to kill one of your Outcasts."

Alvin laughed, "I don't need **anybody**. Especially not some boy whose head isn't screwed on right." Dagur scoffed and looked at the cloudy skies, "Let me guess, you're trying to restrain the Skrill in some arena. Is that correct?" The Outcast crossed his arms, "Maybe. What does it matter?" A scream answered his question. Alvin rushed to the stadium, with Dagur following him, and saw the Skrill blasting his vikings. The dragon saw Dagur and looked, simultaneously, relieved and hurt. "_I'm not here to hurt you, buddy. Just hold on."_ Dagur, mentally, assured, trying to project his thoughts into the dragon's mind.

An Outcast grabbed the Skrill's head and forced him to the ground. Dagur kept himself from lashing out, "You'll get killed that way." he stated, _"By me."_ the boy mused. The Outcast eyed him, "How?" Dagur went up to the dragon, pushing Outcasts out of his way, "He draws his power from lightning. You need to put him in water for the time being." With his eyes, he apologized to the dragon. An old, skinny viking came up to him, "We need to punish it for trying to attack us. No dragon deserves to have adjustments made for it." Dagur, nearly, gagged at the man's stench, "And nothing with your odor deserves to be around a living being. Ever heard of a bath?"

Mildew looked appalled by the statement and he stared at the boy, hard, "You're Hiccup's friend. Why are you here?" Dagur regarded him, arrogantly, "I'm a chief first and foremost. No alliance is worth losing such a magnificent creature like the one you guys have in your possession." Alvin sneered at him, "So **that's** why you're here. You want the Skrill. Well, ya can't have it until after **I **get Berk. That's my offer. Take it or leave it." Dagur sneered back, "Not willing to do even a **little** budging on that contract?" Alvin shook his head, fervently, "Not on my life." The two glared at each other until finally, sighing, heavily, Dagur conceded, "Fine, if you're deterimed to be so stubborn about it."

"Bring it to the water." Alvin ordered. Six Outcasts scurried over to the Skrill and tried their best to get him to the new location. The Outcast leader turned to Dagur, "Looks like you'll need to know our plan for attack, if you're goin' to be a part of it." He motioned to an opening in the rocks and the Berserkers went through. "Alvin," Mildew began, "we aren't really working with him, are we? He's crazy. Might use that Skrill on **us** as soon as he gets it!" Alvin eyed the elderly viking, "I don't keep my deals, Mildew. We'll use his help for the Skrill and the amount of vikings that he has, for now, but as soon as we get Berk, we'll end the whole lot of 'em."

Dagur and Alvin sat at the heads of the long, Outcast table. Puffing up, Alvin started, "My fleet will lead the attack to Berk's front and your ships'll provide the support." Dagur refrained from rolling his eyes, "_So basic and predictable."_ he thought. "But what **I **need to know is what to do with that Skrill. How do I deal with it?" the Outcast inquired. "Simple." Dagur leaned back in the chair, "**You **don't. It's my payment remember? Any issue that comes up with the dragon, I'll handle. Don't worry yourself over that." Alvin snarled, "Just curious about it. Never hurts to know as much as you can about your weapons." The Berserker gave him a blank look and Alvin sighed, exasperated that he was, supposedly, not being understood.

Dagur brought his hands together, "What time is this attack going to take place?" "Tonight. I don't like waiting." Alvin replied, "I'll send Savage to go get you when we're ready. You can wait on your ship." The chief gave a nod and left. Before he could, a sound of crumbling earth caught his attention. He raised his brow at Alvin, "_Skrills **don't** cause earthquakes. Wonder what that was. Not like he'll tell me, though." _Dagur mused. The Berserkers went to their vessels, "Should we start our plan now, Sir?" Vorg inquired. "No, anything too soon might be anticipated. We'll wait a little bit." The leader answered. After some time had gone by, Dagur took some Berserkers with him and sneaked back onto the island.

"_First things first, getting my Skrill back."_ the Berserker thought. He led his vikings through where they had seen the Outcasts take the dragon and found him chained to the watery ground. Two Outcasts were guarding him, so the Berserkers mashed their heads together, rendering them unconscious. Dagur stole the key, that one possessed, and unlocked the pin. The Skrill shied away from human contact. "It's me, Skrilly. You'll be safe in just a little bit longer. You have to be quiet, though, all right?" Dagur reached for the muzzle and removed it from the dragon. The skrill eyed him with trepidation and followed him out of the cage. As they began walking back to the ships, another crumbling sound came.

"Make sure he gets back to the riders, so that he can go to Berk's training arena." Dagur ordered. Vorg had askance written on his face, "Why? Shouldn't you be coming with us?" "I will. Don't take all the ships. That noise has just been bothering me, so I'm going to see what it is." the chief informed. Vorg and the Skrill looked hesitant to leave, but executed the orders. After making sure they exited, safely, Dagur crept around the cave, seeing a lot of Outcasts and few other things. Again, a loud racket. The young chief followed it and it got stronger. He was getting closer and could hear a new noise. A squawking almost. Peeking around the corner, Dagur saw a lounge of Whispering Death hatchlings.

The fledglings screeched and dug holes in every surface they could find. "_They're breeding these things. Wonder how big they'll get."_ Dagur pondered. He saw a large egg and his eyes widened, "_I hope that's not an indication._ _They'll plant them on Berk as soon as those dragons can eat through enough earth."_ The Berserker wanted to take them, to prevent the dragons from being used as weapons against Berk, but he could not think of a way to transport them. "_They won't just follow me out. Eh, the riders can figure that part out since they're used to this kind of thing."_

Vorg and the Berserkers brought the dragon to the ships and met up with the dragon riders. "Where's Dagur?" Hiccup asked, growing concerned. "He stayed behind to learn what some noise was." Vorg told. "And you just let him?" the Berkian heir's voice rose. "Hiccup, calm down." Astrid told him, "The captain probably was following orders." The other riders did not know what to do, "We can't leave him here, but can we stay?" Fishlegs asked. "**We** can go in and get him." Ruffnut offered, gesturing to her brother. "Great, then you nitwits would get him killed." Snotlout stated, upset. Hiccup rapped his fingers on Toothless's head, "We don't stay close, but not far either. We can, slowly, begin to head back to Berk. He should catch up with us, if he goes a normal pace."

Skillfully going alongside the cavern walls, Dagur made his way to the ship and began to sail off. He was putting a nice distance between himself and Outcast island. Seeing something in the fog, the Berserker saw a larger ship coming towards him. Dagur cursed the ship for being faster than his, "_I **knew **that these ships have needed a good update for the last decade."_ he thought, bitterly. Alvin looked like a dragon, himself, ready for the kill, "You broke our deal, boy." he snarled. Dagur scoffed, "As if you were planning on giving me anything more than a blade through my body when you finished attacking Berk." he retorted. Dagur tried to keep the vessels separate, but the other caught up, quickly.

"I don't like looking stupid." Alvin roared. "Aw, but you're so good at it!" Dagur cooed. The Outcast leapt onto the Berserker ship with his sword drawn. Just barely, Dagur missed being slashed and drew his own weapon. Metal clashed against each other, loudly, and Alvin pushed down on the viking. "_A big boy, isn't he."_ Dagur thought, struggling to keep the blade from his person. Brightening, he used his helmet as help and headbutted the viking back. He had to be faster instead of stronger, so he sent quick kicks and slices into the larger viking. Alvin yelled out in pain as the blade cut his flesh, enraging him. With an infuriated roar, the Outcast slashed his sword, disarming the Berserker.

Mentally cursing, Dagur ducked and dodged around the sharp metal. "Stop running!" Alvin ordered. He was envious of the younger viking's speed and agility. "Outcasts!" he called out. The mentioned vikings charged onto the ship and surrounded the Berserker. "Can't fight me alone, Al? Have to be babied by your band of miscreants?" Dagur taunted. An Outcast came up from behind him and he punched the viking out. Dagur laughed and flung the limp body into two more Outcasts, "They aren't as good as I thought they'd be, Treachy!" More vikings piled into the vessel, taking up the entire volume. "What they might lack in skill, they make up for in numbers." Alvin sneered, as the viking closed in on Dagur.

With the Berserker ships, the Skrill was at unease. "What's going on down there?" Hiccup called. "Don't know. It's just started moving around like crazy." Vorg answered. Prior to the vikings be able to stop it, the dragon flew away. "You didn't harness it?" Astrid questioned, annoyed. "There's no way I was going to chain up the chief's dragon." the captain defended. "Fair point." Tuffnut figured. Hiccup sighed and they flew after the dragon.

Dagur took out each Outcast that came up to him, but there were so many. "_Do they just have an endless supply?"_ he wondered, exasperated. The vikings jumped on top of Dagur, pinning him to the ground with their combined weight. Only the Berserker's head was out from under the pile, the rest being crushed. He tried, in vain, to get the Outcasts off of him. Hearing a manical cackle, he saw Alvin walking over to them with his sword drawn. He raised the blade over his head and Dagur shut his eyes, tightly. A painfilled yell with through his ears, but it did not belong to him.

Dagur saw as a blue stream of lightning coursed through Alvin's body, knocking him into the water. The Berserker felt his hair standing on end as more screams came. The pressure from the pile of Outcasts left him and they shot off into the sea, going near their leader. In awe, Dagur watched the Skrill flying in the sky. The Outcasts swam away, in fear, from its ferocity. The dragon landed on the deck right next to the young viking and looked at him. "Y-you protected me." the Berserker stated, dumbfounded. The Skrill lowered his head and Dagur put their foreheads together, "Thank you." he said, sincerely. Hiccup and the riders came to join the group, "Looks like you've made a new friend." he noted. Dagur beamed. "What are you going to name him?" Fishlegs inquired. Dagur thought for a few moments and decided, confidently, "Bluebolt."


	12. New Players

The riders and Berserkers were in the Berkian training academy with the Skrill. "And flip. You almost got it, Bluebolt. Try **one** more time." Dagur insisted and the dragon succeeded in doing a flip in the air. The Berserker chief cheered for the reptile and then turned serious, "The Outcasts have dragons too, brother." Hiccup grew concerned, "What? What kind of dragons?" Dagur shrugged, "I don't know. I'd never seen them before today, but they had skinny bodies, big heads, and tore into earth." The Berkian paled, "Whispering Deaths." he said. Toothless growled in response to hearing the species' name.

Dagur noticed the Night Fury's change in demeanor, "Not a fan of them, huh?" Hiccup patted his dragon's head, "He had a feud with a Whispering Death before I trained him. Normally dragon grudges go to the death, but he spared it." "Merciful of him. You all know about dragons. What do we do to get them away from Alvin?" the Berserker inquired. Hiccup began to ponder, "We'll have to use an island that's far enough away from everyone, so that they can live there." he paused, "Actually, I think I remember one from my flights with Toothless." Dagur looked pensive, "That still doesn't help us **get** them there, though. Unless-well, only Fishy could go in that case-maybe." The riders eyed him with curiousity and he elaborated, "Do you think if we use Dragon Root, we'd be able to move them? Since the other dragons would be rendered unmanageable, we could follow Fishy in my ships."

Fishlegs looked like he had heard the worst possible sentence imaginable, "I-I'd have to d-do **what**?" Dagur went over to him, "Just lead them to this special island. We'll be **right** behind you." he said, with an encouraging(or unsettling)smile. The Ingerman boy glanced at Hiccup, hoping he would interject. "This really might be the best option, Fishlegs. Of course, there is the matter of getting on Outcast Island in the first place." Dagur flicked his wrist at the comment, "Easy. My armada can, basically, go anywhere with their numbers. If Alvin plays his cards well, he **migh****t** not have too many fatalities for his vikings." The riders looked at Dagur like he was crazy and then at one another, "I guess, it's settled then?" Astrid asked, unsure. Her Berkian friend nodded, "Yep, we can head back to Outcast Island."

Fishlegs and Meatlug carried a large piece of Dragon Root to Outcast Island, with their friends trailing behind in Berserker ships. They reached the land mass and it was, eerily, silent. "Careful," Dagur warned the rider, "This could be a trap." Fishlegs nodded and the vikings crept onto the island, looking around them for any sign of life. None was seen. "Are they not here?" Astrid asked, flabbergasted. Snotlout threw his arms in the air, "We came all this way **just** to find an empty island?" Hiccup glared at him, "We didn't know it was going to be empty, Snotlout." Dagur kept frowning at the cavern, "Let's make sure they're gone." The group entered the cave, weapons drawn in case of ambush. Still nothing. "Uh, guys, this is getting kind of dull." Tuffnut complained. Ruff chimed in, "Yeah, when do we get to explode Outcasts?" Fishlegs, who was already on pins and needles, was growing irritated by them, "Let's be **glad** they're not here. I'm in no rush to see Alvin." he shuddered.

They found where the Whispering Deaths had been stored, "This is where they used to be." Dagur told the team. The Berkian heir analyzed the craters, "Those are **definitely** Whispering Death holes. Where could everyone be?" The Jorgenson crossed his arms, "Probably out having fun. Must be nice." Dagur eyed the area more, "Having fun, sure, but they're doing it by killing innocent people with those, wiggly reptiles. They'd have a lot more fun killing **guilty **people. I know, I will when we see them." he cackled and received a look because of it, "We don't know who they're going after right now. Heck, they might have split up and started attacking **both** of our tribes. We should head back to Berk and make sure everyone's all right." the chief suggested. The younger vikings agreed and they returned.

The state of Berk was a fine one, fortunately. Dagur went back to the training academy to retrieve Bluebolt and rubbed the dragon's head, lovingly, "We have to return to home. If Alvin's there and I'm not, my people are going to be in trouble." the Berserker told. Hiccup understood, "We have this new thing, though. Terror Mail, we call it. It's when we use Terrible Terrors as messengers. We'll send you one, if we learn anything about where Alvin and his Outcasts went." the boy promised. The two vikings shook hands and Dagur and Bluebolt left the island.

The vessels neared Berserker Island and saw neither Outcast ships nor earth-eating dragons. Confused, Dagur had the vikings pull into the harbor. Bluebolt began to act, strangely, "What's wrong, boy?" The Skrill shook his head to clear his thoughts and flew upwards. Tracking the dragon, the Berserker chief saw him on the top of the island, sitting, happily. "Like it up here only? Weird. All right, we can set up stables for you here. Ya know, you **could** have stayed in my house." he said in a sing-song manner, "It's just down there. Lot of empty rooms you could play in." The Skrill was resolute and Dagur caved, "Fine. I'll just come up here to see you, if you won't go down with us. Leaving me in that big house. All alone." drama took over his voice, and the dragon laughed at him. He pulled out a piece of paper and began jotting landscape ideas down, "Which do you like better?" he asked the dragon. Bluebolt nudged the one on the right side, "Then that shall be your domicile, friend!" Dagur proclaimed and set to work.

A few months had gone by and the dragon riders were doing their surveillance rounds for Berk. "I don't see any Whispering Deaths, Hiccup." Astrid called out, "Maybe we should try to take them from Alvin instead of waiting." Hiccup frowned, "It would be harder trying to sneak in there and move all of them. They're babies, so even if they'd be willing to listen, they still wouldn't do it very well." Snotlout hovered near them, "Well, can we stop now? There's nothing out here except water, water and oh, more water!" The twins were focusing on an object and interjected, "Oh contraire, mon frère. **There's** something." Tuffnut noticed. The riders turned to see where the siblings were looking and saw a ship coming towards Berk.

Cautiously, the dragon riders approached the unfamiliar vessel. Recognizing a face, they smiled, "Heather! Didn't expect to see you. What brings you to Berk this time?" Hiccup inquired. The girl looked worn and saddened, "Alvin again. He was spotted near our island, but didn't attack, directly. These weird dragons with long bodies appeared and just started eating the island! Only the three of us made it out alive." she gestured to her parents. The two elder vikings **were** alive, but just barely, clearly having been injured during the escape. "Astrid take her mother, I'll grab her dad and we can bring them to Berk faster." The viking complied and, gingerly, scooped the woman onto Stormfly's back.

The parents were brought to Gothi for healing. "What is she saying?" Heather inquired, as Gothi wrote in the sand. Gobber's face went dreary, "She says that they might be able to survive these wounds, but will need particular care." The healer handed the young girl a list of things that she needed to do, daily. "Heather, I'm so sorry that this happened." Hiccup apologized. Fishlegs came over, "If you need **anything**, let us know. Of course, you're welcome to stay here." The Berkian heir nodded.

Hiccup went to get a Terrible Terror. "What are you doing?" Astrid inquired. "I'm contacting Dagur. He needs to know that **this **is what Alvin was doing when we found their island empty. Heather, about how far is your island?" The girl thought, "Um, a week's travel maybe. We left before the Outcasts did, so they might still be on their way." Hiccup pondered, heavily, "If he's still on the way, maybe we could get Dagur to come here and help us formulate a plan." He arranged the letter on the little dragon and it flew off to pursue its mission.

Dagur was in the new Berserker arena with Bluebolt, practicing more accurate blasts. "You have to aim a little ahead of the mark, so that when you're flying, it'll still hit." he instructed. The Skrill listened to the recommendation and hit the next target, smiling afterwards. Dagur did a Berserker cheer and heard the sound of small wings flapping. Eying a Terrible Terror, he remembered. "Oh, yeah. The whole mail thingy." he undid the message from its body, "Thanks little dragon. Um, want some fish as payment?" This brightened the Terror and he wiggled, happily. Dagur tossed a piece of trout into the reptile's mouth and it flew back to Berk. The Berserker read the note and was unsure of what to do. "_If I leave, I'd leave us vulnerable to attacks. Also, if I stay and **Berk** gets attacked, I won't be able to help them."_ he paced back and forth, until Bluebolt landed in front of him, trying to calm him down.

Dagur stared at the dragon, "If something happens, Bolty, will you make sure everyone gets out. I'll leave Vorg with you to help." The Skrill nodded, seriously. Dagur gathered Herald and some Berserker ships with him to travel to Berk. "Brother!" he called out, seeing Hiccup. He trapped the smaller boy in a bear hug, "Glad to see you're all right still." he told him. "Yep, **we're **fine, but our friend Heather lost her entire island. Her parents are, badly, wounded too." The chief went grave, "Her name's Heather?" Hiccup was surprised about that being the thing that stuck out most, "Um, yeah. And her village got destroyed." Dagur's focus went off of the Berkian and wandered, aimlessly, _"That's a popular enough name. Could be anyone."_ he thought. "Eh, w-what kinds of injuries? From the falling apart island, or did the dragons, directly, attack them?" Hiccup began to lead him towards the trio.

The adult vikings were still in poor shape and their daughter was by their sides. "Heather, this is Dagur. He's the Berserker chief and the ally that I mentioned to you earlier." Hiccup introduced. Heather stood up, "Chief? Sorry, but I just assumed that you'd be older." A silence occurred when Dagur could do little more than stare. Toothless nudged him, bringing him back to the situation, "I get that sometimes." he said, rushedly, then added, sincerely, "Really sorry to hear about your parents and island." Heather's eyes lowered, dejectedly, but brightened when he spoke again, "These are wounds from the debris. I know how to help with that." "Really?" she asked, in disbelief. He nodded, "Berserker island has a hollow center. A lot of vikings got caught in it crumbling, so we know a thing or two about healing **those** wounds."

Heather handed the chief the list Gothi had given her, "This is what I've been instructed to do." Dagur looked over the notes, "Good, but you'll need to use some Yarrow tea, simple exercises to keep their muscles working, and something to keep their spirits up." Heather sighed, "That last one doesn't seem possible. We lost everything." The Berserker shook his head, "Not each other." he pointed out. She conceded to that, "True, but why does it matter trying to be happy about all this? Wouldn't the more traditional methods help just fine by themselves?" Dagur handed her back the letter, "The spirit is a strong thing. If that's really strong, you can be unstoppable. **Contrarily**, you could have all the resources in the world, but be without a fighting soul and you'd die. Just my opinion, though."

Heather seemed open to the idea of staying positive and Dagur and Hiccup left to go speak with Stoick about their battle strategy. Dagur was quiet the entire walk there, just thinking. Hiccup decided not to interrupt whatever was going on in his friend's mind and instead went along, silently. "_Is it possible? No, that's so unlikely. But anything can happen. Ugh! She has the same traits, but how strange would **that **be? Come on, try to stay focused here."_ the Berserker, mentally, chastised himself, "_Well, I suppose, that I'll have to wait and see with Heather. I'll need more information before jumping to conclusions. Ooh, I hope we get kill Alvin, quickly, I can't **stand **this uncertainty!"_


	13. Hope or Despair?

The vikings stood in the Berkian hall. "Alvin won't stop until he's exacted his revenge against us all." Stoick stated, grimly, "We've already seen what those Whispering Deaths will do." Hiccup was, visibly, upset by this, "It's not their fault, Dad. When they're forced to run rampant, that's when they do their worst." Dagur frowned, thinking hard, "Do you know any weaknesses they have? Anything we can do to deter them from eating the island whole would be nice." Fishlegs pulled out the Book of Dragons, "Yes, actually. We learned that they don't like light. **That's **why they burrow." The Berserker scoffed, "So they like to stay underground, but destroy everything they can use as cover? Weird dragons."

Fishlegs kept staring at the book and Dagur began to peek over at the pages. The Ingerman noticed this, but did not want to hand the object over for fear of it being damaged. Dagur observed that and settled for what he knew off hand, "Well, it sounds like we really need to spot them before they get here and try to keep the Whispies as far away from land as possible. Reacting to them already having burrowed would probably just cause more destruction." the young chief noted. Stoick nodded, "Agreed. We'll have to keep a lookout for any signs of unfamiliar ships or small dragons flying nearby." The Berkian heir turned to Dagur, "While I appreciate you coming here to help us, you should probably go back to your island." The older viking looked surprised, "Why **should** I? If I'm there, I can't help you." Hiccup looked at Toothless, "Alvin's been trying to come after us since forever. Even moreso since he found out about us training dragons."

Impatiently, Dagur moved his hand in a circular motion, gesturing for Hiccup to speed it up, "And your point being..?" The elder chief understood his son's gist, "I believe, he means that Alvin will want us to feel the heat. He's already attacked Heather's island, someone that he knows we had helped...to go against him, on top of it. Considering that you're our ally, he'll attack you next. That way, we can be miserable that all our alliances have been, forcibly, ended and then he would end with us." Dagur stroked his chin, "Seems so...generic, though. Why be so predictable?" Hiccup shrugged, "I don't know if it's so much 'predictable' as it is just something Alvin would do. He loves making people squirm." Dagur still was frowning at the suggestion. "Alvin **will **attack and your people will need you there when he does, Dagur. Always remember, a chief protects his own." Stoick told the Berserker.

Dagur sighed, knowing that either he would return, voluntarily, or strapped to Toothless's back, "Fine. I'll be back, though, after this is finished." he promised. The Berserker went to the docks, "Vorg, could you get the others ready to leave?" The captain gave a salut and started calling out orders to the soldiers. His chief went back to where Heather was, "Hey." he began, alerting her to his presence, "We're about to head back for now. How are your parents doing?" The girl looked hopeful, "All right. They're resting right now and said that they didn't need anything." Dagur smiled, "Good." He started to leave, but halted, "Are you adopted?" he blurted out. The question being so random, coupled with how genuinely it was asked, made Heather chuckle, "I am, actually."

The viking's face, then, went long, "I don't remember much about my birth family." Dagur went over to her, comfortingly, "But, do you remember **anything**? Even a small detail?" She thought, "Kind of. I remember my father's hands holding mine." Disheartened would be the word to describe Dagur's expression, "Is that it?" Heather kept thinking back to her early childhood, "I recall a shield, but that's kind of it." She paused and went to grab her bag, "Well, there **is** something that I've always owned. This horn. I don't remember getting it, but my parents told me that it was with a few things of mine that had been on the boat they found me in." Dagur looked as though he had, simultaneously, seen a ghost and angel. Heather was beginning to get curious about all the questions, "Why did you want to know all this?" The Berserker stared for a moment longer, "Because I think, we're-"

"Chief!" Vorg called, "Everyone and everything's loaded up. We're ready to head back." Dagur, quietly, grunted and nodded to the captain, "I'll be right there, Vorg." He turned back to Heather, thinking, _"If I say something now, that'll start a whole **other** thing and fog up her mind. She needs to be undistracted for when the Outcasts come."_ The Berserker forced a smile, "I'll finish explaining when I get back. Be safe." He gave the girl a hug, which surprised her. Having not returned the embrace, she gave him a confused look and he let go. With a wave, Dagur began to go to his ships. Before he reached the vessels, he saw the twins slumping near their Zippleback. "What's wrong?" he asked them. They sighed, dramatically, "Cruel fate, Dagur. Cruel fate. We, bringers of destruction, must **prevent** destruction!" Tuffnut sobbed. "Why do the gods hate us?" Ruff added, sobbing as well.

Dagur smirked at their love of violence, "Well, if the Whispering Deaths take down Berk, you'll have no chaos to cause. Can't let **that **happen, can you?" An epiphany occurred for the Thorston siblings, "By Odin, you're right! Come, Sister! We must not let these earth eaters consume our purpose in life." The two ran off, hopefully planning something useful. The chief climbed on board his ship and they set sail. It was a quick trip to Berserker Island and no enemies had been there. Dagur saw Bluebolt standing ready to fight, should any uninvited guest approach.

"We have to keep them away from the ground, Bolty. They don't like to get out in the sun much and burrow because of it." the viking informed his dragon. Dagur repeated the information to the rest of his Berserkers. They would be aware of how to fight these things if he had anything to say about it. The Skrill began to growl, defensively, and Dagur saw the slim bodies of three Whispering Deaths. Quickly, he checked around the other sides of the island. "_Those are the only ones they're sending? Could've sworn they had a lot more."_ A couple of ships followed behind the dragons, but carried a mixture of Outcasts and vikings that were not of those people. "_Got some friends now, Al?"_ Dagur wondered. He went to the center of the island, "Ready yourselves for battle!" he alerted.

Bluebolt sent a stream of lightning at the smaller dragons, knocking one, pitifully, into the sea. It squawked in pain and dismay as its siblings left it there.The other two Whisperers continued forward, but received a blast also. Deciding that no food nor shelter is worth all that abuse, the dragons fled. "Get back here you, worthless, lizards!" an Outcast yelled after them. Dagur could not make himself believe that what he saw was all there was to the villain's plan, "I just don't like this, Bluebolt." he told the snarling Skrill. As the Outcast ships were catapulted and damaged, the chief found Captain Vorg. "Imprison the all the vikings and question the newcomers." he instructed. The older viking gave him an inquisitive look, "I don't think this is all that Alvin has up his tunic. It's too easy." Dagur explained and began to feel panic rise in his chest, "He's keeping us out of the way, so he can destroy Berk!"

The Berserker leader ran to the Skrill, "The ships will take too long to get there, Bolty. We have to fly faster than you've ever gone before." Bluebolt nodded, understandably and lowered his wing to the ground, so that the viking could climb up. Dagur took a deep breath and held on to the dragon, tightly, "Let's go." The dragon zoomed off like the lightning he blasted. Clouds formed in the sky, seemingly knowing that their reptilian comrade would be needing them. The pair arrived at Berk in record time and saw Outcast ships, Whispering Deaths, unknown ships, and more wild dragons laying siege to the island. Bluebolt fired into the water, allowing the metal in the ships to take care of distributing the electricity. Viking screams challenged the sounds of dragon blasts for volume.

The Skrill flew around, blasting the ships and killing their travellers in the process. There was a different insignia on most of the vessels. It was a dragon with blades going through its body. Neither the Berserker nor the Berkians had ever seen it before that day. The dragon riders were in the sky and destroyed their fair share of ships, "You were right." Hiccup admitted, calling over the noises of carnage. Dagur ducked his head, avoiding a bolas being thrown at him, "Where's Heather and the others?" he asked, meaning the non-riders. "She's with her parents, still, and my dad and Gobber are fighting the vikings that docked." Hiccup told him. A Deadly Nadder shot a spine at the heir, "Bolty." Dagur said, getting the Skrill to fire a blast that intercepted the shot. The Berkian looked behind him to see the Nadder, "Thanks." Dagur eyed every ship they blasted with scrutiny, "I don't see Alvin. Do you?" Hiccup shook his head, "No, but he's probably fighting my dad."

Dagur was uncomfortable with relying on hope, alone, "Do you think that you and the riders can handle these ships now?" "Yeah, we should be fine. You've already taken out half." Hiccup assured him, smiling. Feeling confident in their abilities, Dagur and Bluebolt rushed to the land. Berkians were fending off Outcasts, and whoever the newcomers were, very well and, for that, Dagur was glad. He threw blades into the throats and heads of any enemy that he saw on his way to find where Alvin was. Stoick and Gobber were preoccupied fighting, but with random Outcasts and not their leader. The Skrill and Berserker flew until they reached where the young girl and her parents had last been. A yelp of pain was cried before they could even enter the area. Since time was of the essence and an indirect approach could end in lost lives, Dagur flung the door open.

In each hand, Alvin held Heather's parents' throats. "Please," the girl begged, "Let them go. I'll do whatever you want." The Outcast was interested at the suggestion and had a sickening look his face. Dagur threw blades into the man's forearms, making him drop the vikings. Moving quickly, Dagur caught them, keeping the people from hitting the ground too hard, "Come on." he told Heather. The girl shook her head, "No, I can't let him get away with this." She took out an ax that was amongst their things and held it in an offensive pose. Growling, Dagur laid the mother and father down in a safer place and returned for the girl. Alvin was walking, menacingly, towards Heather and Dagur stood between the two. "Well, well. Didn't stay on Berserker Island to help your little vikings? Thought you **cared** about them." Alvin, mockingly, scolded.

Alvin looked at the two young vikings, "You don't want her here, but out there isn't any safer." The terrible thing was, in a way, Alvin was correct. As much as Dagur wanted Heather as far away from that man as possible, if she were around **him**, he could make sure she was safe. There was no, particular, place that he could put her and keep her out of harm's way. He, certainly, had considered carrying her out of the room and transporting her somewhere else. To worsen matters, more vikings entered the hut. Dagur split his focus to know where each one of them was. Drawing his ax and sword, the Berserker blocked an attack that was meant for Heather and plunged a blade into the Outcast's body. With a yell, the viking slumped and another came to avenge his ally. The man charged at the girl with his ax and got his arm lopped off by Dagur. He cried in agony and looked to Alvin for help. None came quickly enough, and another slash across the chest left the viking dead.

Like this, Dagur took out the vikings inside the room and Bluebolt kept more from entering. Dagur put his sword back and used this hand to grab Heather. He brought her out of the room and lifted her onto the Skrill's back. "I can't run away!" she protested. He sighed, heavily, "Why not?! Do you **want **to get killed? I'm doing my part by helping you. The least you could do is cooperate." he chastised her. Heather looked at him, sheepishly, "I'm sorry, but...I-I have to make it up to my village." With that said, she rushed past the Berserker and charged into the hut again. Dagur ran after her, but she was already a mere few feet from Alvin. The man's back was turned, looking at his fallen vikings and she thought that she had the upper hand. Only Dagur noticed as the Outcast, subtly, began to draw his ax.

"_That blade will go through her like yak butter._" Dagur realized. In a flash, he shoved Heather aside and was raising his own ax to block the attack. Alvin, quickly, adjusted his swing and sent the blade into the viking's side. The metal dug deep into his torso and Dagur yelled out, pain surging through his body. Hearing this, Bluebolt burst into the room, blasting down the entranceway. "Careful, dragon." Alvin warned, roughly taking the blade out of the boy, invoking an almost inaudible whimper, and putting it to his neck, "Shoot me and he'll be dead in mere seconds." The Skrill snarled, but did not engage. Alvin smirked, smugly, "Good reptile. Now, I think that you guys are winning out there, but I won't be getting captured or anything like that. Not my style. So, I'll be going and your little friend here will be coming with me."

Fear flashed in Bluebolt's eyes for his friend and Alvin started to walk out of the hut, dragging Dagur with him. They went to a ship that had been well hidden and saw a few Outcasts that had stayed on board. The leader Outcast pushed Dagur over to the other vikings. Due to the, nearly, lethal gash, Dagur fell to his knees. "Chain him up and put him in a cell." Alvin ordered. Immediately, they followed the commands and rushed to the boy, forcing his arms behind his back, painfully. Cold chains were locked to his wrists and he was dragged to the lower compartment of the ship. He saw a dark cell and was shoved inside. The Outcasts closed the door and locked him in, "Why..have the door locked...and these chains on?" Dagur asked Alvin, through short breaths. He shrugged, "More fun that way. You'll do best remembering that I can do whatever I want to you and no one's going to stop me. Might as well burn a ship with you in it, because you're as good dead here under **my** mercy."

The Outcasts left the prison and went to the decks, beginning to sail away. Dagur got himself to his knees and leaned against the cell wall, trying to steady his breaths. He wished that his arms had been chained in front of him, so that he could apply pressure to the wound and stop the blood flow, but he had no such luck. He was enraged that he had been captured, saddened that he was unable to explain everything to Heather, and, most upsettingly, afraid of the possibility of never being able to see his Berserkers, the Berkians, or Heather ever again. The only thing that gave him some semblance of faith was that despite how deep his gash was, he was alive. If **that **did not kill him, he was meant to be around to do something in the future. All he had to do would be to remember that when the impending tortures came and threatened to convince him otherwise.


	14. Consequences

Heather felt, nearly, numb as she stood in the hut. In mere seconds, her life had been saved and another one's had, certainly, been doomed. She could not understand **why **it was that the Berserker chief had saved her. They had never met each other before, so it could not be a sense of nostalgia. Bluebolt roared, angrily, at her and returned her to the moment at hand. The Skrill used his wing to flick her onto his back and flew off. They zoomed around the island, searching for the young viking and the Outcasts. No one was spotted and they went to find Hiccup.

The majority of the Outcasts and their allies had been taken captive. Anyone who was not caught, retreated. With the fighting at an end, the dragon riders landed to check on the other Berkians. "Dad," Hiccup started, seeing Stoick, "is everyone okay?" The chief smiled, "Everyone's fine. We sure showed those Outcasts. Wonder who those other ones were, though. I'll have to interrogate them." Hiccup smirked, "Heh, so we'll find out in an hour." Bluebolt and Heather arrived to the scene and landed near them. "Hey, Bluebolt." Hiccup told the Skrill, going over to him. The dragon was panicking and pulled away from his outstretched hand. "What's wrong?" the boy inquired. Looking at the pair, he frowned, "Where's Dagur?" Stoick chimed in, "Yes. I'll have to thank him. We wouldn't have had such a good time today if he and that dragon hadn't killed their fair share of vikings."

The Berkian chief and heir looked to the girl for her answer, "H-he got captured." Their eyes enlarged and Hiccup leapt onto Toothless's back, looking for the Berserker. Like Heather, they did not find him. The two returned, determined, "We have to go back to Outcast Island. They must be headed there." Hiccup stated. The dragon riders-and Heather on Bluebolt-sped to the land mass. The heir was silent on the way. Too engulfed in his own thoughts to speak. Breaking the quietude, Snotlout spoke, "How did he get caught?" he asked, confused. Heather frowned, "Alvin got him in the side with his ax." Hiccup's head snapped around to face Heather, "**What** happened to him?" he questioned, panicked. Toothless eyed the girl and Heather's head lowered, "I charged at Alvin and he was about to slash me. I didn't notice that, but Dagur did. He knocked me out the way and went to block the attack. That's when it happened. Alvin altered his slice and got him in the side."

The riders looked at their leader and saw his distress. Sighing, Astrid began, "Hiccup, Alvin's a strong viking. A slash like that.." Hiccup faced forward, "Would make it so that he could be taken captive. Nothing more than that." he said, firmly. No one else spoke during the flight and they flew past jagged rocks and cliffs. Reaching the living area of the island, they landed. It looked empty like the last time they had gone. The vikings entered the caverns, going into the prison. "Split up." Hiccup ordered. The group scoured the land, including under rocks in regards to the twins. They met up outside the cave, "He's not here, Hiccup. No one is!" Fishlegs stated, hyperventilating. Heather wanted to comfort her friend, but felt too responsible.

The Berkian heir ran a hand through his hair, "Where could they have gone? They must be on some ship. Let's go." Snotlout's mouth gaped, "Go search the entire sea?" Hiccup gave him a death glare, "As far as we need, to find Dagur." he mounted the Night Fury and took to the sky. The others followed, closely behind. Night came and the riders slowed, "Hiccup." Astrid started, "We can't fly out here all night." Hiccup did not divert his eyes from the seas, "You all can head back, if you want." Fishlegs's face saddened, "It's not that we **want **to, but everyone will be worried if we stay out too much longer. Plus, our dragons will get exhausted and won't be able to help that well." he stated, defensively. "Well, I think that the Berserkers will worry about Dagur not showing up to his island." Hiccup retorted. "We can go there tomorrow and let them know why he didn't come back. They'll send out search parties that could do a lot more than we could." Astrid reasoned.

Hiccup scowled and let out a small grunt, "Fine." he said, gruffly. The vikings returned to Berk, being greeted by their parents. "Was wondering where you went, boy-o." Spitelout said, nonchalantly, but with a, relieved smile after his son looked away from him. The teenagers went to their huts for the night and Heather wentto check on her parents. They were asleep again, but awoke to see her. "You're okay!" they exclaimed, excitedly. She shushed them, "I'm fine, but you need to rest. We'll talk more about this in the morning." Heather promised. They agreed and succumbed to slumber once again.

Hiccup went up to his father, "No sign of him?" Stoick inquired, sadly. The boy shook his head and sighed, "I've never felt unhappy when looking at the other riders go to their families, but tonight, I did." The chief eyed him, curiously, "And why is that, Son?" "We, basically, returned so soon because we knew that our parents would be worried. The consolation was that the Berserkers could wait until morning to learn of their chief's status." Hiccup frowned, "Dagur doesn't have any family back on his island to worry about him. Even if Toothless, the other riders, or Gobber didn't help me when I needed it, I know that **you **would, Dad. We're the closest thing Dagur has to a family and I'm not even out there looking for him!" The chief gave him a pat on the shoulder, "Dagur wouldn't want you out there, not being able to concentrate, and then being caught too. He'd want you safe, even if that meant he'd be in danger." Hiccup was unconvinced, but tried to understand.

Heather exited her home and walked to Hiccup, who had been staring at the sea, "He saved them, Hiccup. My parents would be dead right now, if Dagur hadn't stepped in. We owe him our lives. I just don't get why he was willing to put himself in danger for me, though." Heather divulged. Hiccup looked at her, "Dagur's always been protective of people he cares about like that. He must consider you a friend." The girl gave a weak smile and told the Berkian good night. Hiccup stared back at the sea, "Stay strong, Dagur. I know, you can."

Waves crashed against the Outcast ship, hurling vikings into each other. A viking bumped into Alvin and the Outcast flung him away, "Get offa me, ya dragon bait." The Outcast leader made his way to the prison and unlocked Dagur's cell door. The Berserker had known that any thrashing about would only worsen his wound, so he steadied himself against the wall using his legs to combat the, violent sea. "Ooh, visiting hours have started." he said, mockingly, "Have to admit that I was hoping for someone else, though." Dagur laughed, crazily and Alvin entered the room, "I want answers, boy. And you're going to give them to me." Dagur looked pensive, "Highly doubt that." Alvin glared, "You and that dragon boy are friends. I saw that you trained that Skrill, so ya **must** know how to train dragons. I want an army of my own. Tell me how to do that."

Dagur smirked, "Uh, no. Thanks for the offer, but I don't want you going around with an armada of dragons behi-" A hard punch to his side knocked the air out of him. Some more blood came out of the wound and Dagur, mentally, swore, "_Just got that to stop."_ he thought bitterly. Alvin eyed the boy up and down, "_We've taken his helmet and armor, but he might have some other weapons on him."_ he realized. The Outcast searched Dagur, who squirmed, uncomfortably at the touch, "Don't have to be so thorough." he complained. Alvin obtained a multitude of blades by doing this, "How do you have **this** many?" he asked, dumbfounded. The boy shrugged, "Call it a gift." he grinned. The Outcast put the knives on the outside of the cell and walked back over to him.

Alvin unraveled something that was attached to his hip and Dagur squinted to see what it was in the dark. As it transformed from a tight ball into a snake-like object, he knew. "How do I train dragons?" Alvin questioned again. Dagur had a look of indignance and kept his mouth closed. A loud snap filled the air as a whip came down on his chest. He bit his tongue and stayed silent. Enraged, Alvin yelled, "Speak!" Another laceration formed on his, injured side and he inhaled, sharply.

More lashes hit his body and Alvin grunted in frustration, "Just won't give up, will ya?" The Outcast's eyes went to the binding on his arm, "What do we have here? I've only seen it around the joints when there's been a prior injury." Forcefully, he grabbed the arm and bent it the wrong way. Alvin began to remove the binding and poked at the limb. "I don't know who did it the first time, but it'll be ten times as fast and painful when **I **do it. Just tell me what I want and you'll be fine." Dagur grinned, "What do you want to know? How to look well-kept?" Before anything even occurred, Dagur tensed his body, knowing what was to come. As if it were nothing more than a twig, Alvin broke the viking's arm. Dagur cringed at the pain and could not help, but recall the feeling from the last time.

Dagur looked at Alvin and, for a moment, it appeared as though the Outcast and Ansson had become some, terrible, hybrid person. He kept a tremble from going through his body and forced a smile. The Outcast snarled at the prisoner and snatched off his headband, taking longer than what would be normal. "Odd thing to take your time on, Al." Dagur commented, through gritted teeth. Alvin gave a, sickening, smile and pushed him into the wall, "I have some things to do. Don't wait up." he told the boy and left the cell, locking it again. Dagur growled after the viking.

Hours went by and it was well into the night. Dagur was not asleep and was trying to think of a way to escape, "_The first thing is getting out of this cell. I could trick an Outcast into giving me the key, but I'd still have to take down the others and I can't do that in this state."_ he grunted. It was one thing to be injured, **that **he could handle. But being injured and unable to do anything about it was a foreign concept for the boy and one of which he was not fond. Every breath felt like hevwas inhaling dragon fire. "_I wonder if that slash punctured a lung."_ he wondered. It made sense that some of it might have been affected. Not all, but enough to make it difficult to breathe. He could power through the lashes and broken arm to fight, but if he fought with that injury the way it was, he would make himself bleed out.

The cell door creaked as Alvin entered. "Back so soon?" Dagur asked and eyed him, suspiciously, "Where are your weapons?" The Outcast carried no large weapon and put that sickening grin back on his, ugly mug. "I didn't come here to attack you. Just to let ya know who's boss around here. Like I told ya, I can do whatever I want." Alvin replied, walking, menacingly, towards the boy. "Still doesn't explain why you're here without your arsenal. Not that I, particularly, want you to have it, but it does render me curious as to why you **don't**." Dagur said. Alvin kept the expression on his face, although, it might have become more uncomforting, "Using weapons is only a minor thing to do. You're creative. Think of what else I could try." Dagur thought about what the Outcast could mean and prayed that he was mistaken, "You could try letting me go." he offered up instead.

Alvin just kept on grinning and stalked over to Dagur, forcing the viking to back into the wall that was already in close proximity, due to the chains. Alvin patted Dagur's head, feeling his hair, "Surprisingly, thick." he noted, "Back to our topic of conversation." The Outcast yanked Dagur's head over to his and whispered in the Berserker's ear. The viking jerked his head away from the Outcast. "N-no, no, just no." he stammered. Alvin scowled, "I told you that **I'm** the one who has first and final say around here. Seems like ya need a reminder." He pointed to the ground, "Bow and ask me to forgive ya." Dagur held in a scoff, "**Forgive** me?" Alvin's glare turned more ferocious and he grabbed the back of the Berserker's neck, forcing him on his knees, "And here I was, thinking that you might be cooperative. Silly me, I guess. We'll just have to do this the fun way." he stated.

Dagur struggled to free himself from the older viking's grip, "This doesn't seem like you, Al." he said, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt. "You don't know me, Dagur. But, ya will soon." Alvin told. This time, a tremor **did** go through Dagur's body-after hearing that-and he hated himself for it. He had to think, quickly, but what could he do, in a matter of seconds, to change Alvin's mind? A creak sounded and the two looked up to see Savage. "I told ya not to come in here, Savage." Alvin growled. The smaller Outcast looked embarrassed, "Sorry, Sir, but our new source of income is here. He says that they're busy vikings and that they won't be around this area next week. The sale will have to be tomorrow." The Outcast leader released Dagur and for the first time ever, the Berserker was glad to see Savage. "What?!" Alvin roared, "They didn't even give any notice."

Alvin glared at both vikings and paced a bit. With a large sigh, he spoke, "Fine." He walked back over to Dagur and bent down to face him, "Too bad that we won't be able to have our fun this upcoming week. It'd be a shame, though, to let ya go without getting **something** of yours." Alvin revealed a knife that he had taken from Dagur earlier. He yoked the Berserker's head back by his braid and cut it off. Dagur glared at Alvin as the Outcast waved the hair in front of his face, tauntingly. "Who knows, boy. I might be nicer than these new vikings you'll be with. I heard they kill their own soldiers for the heck of it!" he laughed, cruelly. The Outcasts locked up the cell and left the, slightly shaken, prisoner. He got up off of his knees and imagined strangling the Outcast. Groaning, he slumped against the wall, _"Thanks for the help, Odin, but I'm doing to need a lot more of it soon. Being able to escape would be preferable, for instance._" he suggested, hopefully. He wondered who these new vikings would be. Surely, they were not worse than Alvin, but they would do things their own way and that concerned him. Despite morning coming in a good few hours, it was going to be a, long, sleepless night.


	15. Starts and Aftermath

Sunlight shone over the waters and ships, but none came into the murky, prison cell. That did not matter anyway, though. Dagur had never enjoyed the pleasures of night through sleep as it was, so the time made little difference to him. Savage creaked open the door and went over to the boy with three, dirty looking, cloths in his hands. "Brought me some gifts, Savy? Aw, I didn't get **you **anything." Dagur laughed at himself and the Outcast's annoyed expression. Savage began to bring a cloth over to Dagur's face, which was drawn away. "Not quite the cleanest bunch of vikings, are you? I think, I'll pass on them, but thanks anyway."

Loud steps alerted Dagur to a larger viking coming. Alvin barged into the cell, glaring at Savage, "Ya aren't done **yet**?!" The smaller Outcast shrunk, "I just got in here, Sir. I'm sorry." Alvin continued to sneer and snatched the cloths away from his subject. He turned to Dagur, "Open your trap." The Berserker looked at him as if he had a dragon egg cracked on his face, purposefully, _"He can't think I'd let those things go in my mouth."_ he thought, disgusted. Roughly, Alvin grabbed his bottom jaw, "Hard of hearing now? Open it with your ability to, or ya won't be able to control whether your mouth's closed or not." His hand squeezed the bone, threatening to break it.

Alvin's expression turned into a thoughtful one and his pressure relaxed. His fingers moved to the connecting points on Dagur's jaw and he jabbed them, this triggered the boy's mouth to open, slightly. Alvin, quickly, yanked the jaw down and shoved a cloth halfway down his throat. Dagur gagged from it and tried to spit it out, but another cloth was tied over his mouth and kept the other inside. "You won't be needing to speak." Alvin smirked. He grabbed the top of Dagur's head and tied the last cloth over his eyes. "And don't need to **see** either." The Outcasts left the cell, "All right. We're ready for ya." Alvin called.

Dagur heard the footsteps of a third viking entering the area. "**This **is him?" a british accent questioned, skeptically. "Yep." Alvin told, "A friend of the dragon training boy and a trainer, himself." There was a pause, "Interesting. Maybe, he could be of some use, then." the unknown viking stated, "Does he work well?" "Sure." Alvin lied, "Strong kid. Why waste vikings by having them do work when **he** can?" Dagur felt as the viking's hand grabbed at his arms, not, particularly, helping his broken limb. "_Well, at least I can bite down on this stupid cloth."_ Dagur mused. "He has potential." the viking noted. "He's ruthless too, so he'll probably help you guys kill people." Alvin suggested. "How ruthless?" the newcomer inquired. The Outcast cackled, "He's killed his own father just to claim his birthright sooner." The other viking thought about it, "I'll have him." Alvin cleared his throat, "**Buy **him, ya mean."

Dagur could hear the tension rising as the other viking spoke again, "I never misspeak." he said, coldly. More viking footsteps filled the prison, implying that the Outcasts had been surrounded. "Now," the one viking began, "Will I have him or **take **him?" The sound of crossbows being raised and metal weapons being drawn, intrigued Dagur. "_Ooh, come on, Al. Put up a fight. I just wish that I could see it."_ he thought. No fight occurred, "Have him." Alvin said, gruffly. "Being reasonable. Smart." the other man said, condescendingly. An additional chain was added to Dagur's feet and while **he** was not unchained, his chain was unattached from the wall. Feeling his feet leave the floor, Dagur was slung over a shoulder and carried away, crossing into a different ship.

The two vikings walked for a small distance and stopped. Dagur heard the man knock on a door and a muffled reply. Dropping him to the floor on his knees, the other viking entered the room. The Berserker tried to use his other sense to find the door and listen to what was being said. Only murumurs could be heard and he, quickly, moved back to where he was when the sound of someone nearing the door came. The entrance was opened and Dagur could almost hear the smirk on the viking's face. "You're lucky today." the viking told him, "The man you're supposed to meet is available to see you." The viking began to drag him into the room. "Brother." another voice greeted, "I see that you have retrieved our new guest; however, this is no way to treat him. Uncover his eyes first. They are the windows to the soul." The brother complied and Dagur could finally see who these vikings were. One that had brought him there was a bald and somewhat large man while the younger one had hair and a goatee.

The smaller viking looked at the Berserker for a moment and smiled, "Welcome to our humble abode, Dagur. Allow us to introduce ourselves. We are Viggo and Ryker Grimborn. Correct if I'm wrong, but I am sure that you are curious as to why you are here." Ryker ungagged the viking, "Bleh," Dagur said, trying to to get the taste out of his mouth, "I can guess a few, but I wouldn't mind some clarification." Viggo put his hands together, "We have heard about your training of a dragon and-even more helpful-your connection to a master dragon trainer. Now, I am willing to make you a proposition. Weare dragon **hunters**, not trainers, so I do not find having them as pets to be necessary. What I **would **like is to lull them in, easier. The best prisoner is one that does not know they are, after all."

Dagur raised his brow, "Lull them in? I don't know how to put them in trances." Viggo sat forward, "I am not asking for a hypnotist. If you can convince them that we are not the threat that we are, I will be satisfied. I have lost a large amount of hunters, due to defensive dragons, and it can be a hassle replacing them." Mentally, Dagur scoffed, "_Well, since you care so much."_ he thought, sarcastically. "No one stays without providing something, so how can you be of service?" Viggo inquired. Dagur pretended to contemplate, "Honestly, I don't know if I **can** help you." he feigned sadness, "You might have to force me to leave your ship. And here I was all ready to get settled." The dragon hunter began to chuckle, "One that can joke in a time like this is one that laughs at Death's, grim gaze. You might have been a chief before, but those days have long passed. You have the choice to be one of my hunters or my prisoner. It is, entirely, up to you."

Dagur did not care for either option, "And your hunters just go around capturing dragons for you to sell or kill, until some dragon gets them killed?" Viggo grinned, "Or **I **do. Whichever comes first." Dagur looked at the two, "Guess that you don't leave me with too many options. I'm not helping you go after those animals." Ryker grabbed the boy's throat, lifting him off of the ground. Despite feeling that his windpipe was being crushed, Dagur stared down the viking and showed no signs of regret for his words. Viggo waved his hand at his brother, "Release him, Ryker." Ryker turned to look at the other hunter, "But-" "Preferably **before** you kill him." the hunter pressed. The elder sibling let go of the boy's neck and let him fall back to the flooring. A quiet gasp for air emitted from the Berserker and Viggo sighed, "I suppose, you could consider this a test. One that you failed, miserably, I might add. To think that I was going to order your wounds mended. I so seldom meet an intellectual equal and that shall continue, indefinitely. Take him to the cells, Brother."

Somehow, the hunter prison was even more dingy than the one for the Outcasts. Dagur started to realize the difference. While the Outcasts kept them rundown and unkept, the hunters **wanted **the cells to be as terrible as possible. There was absolutely no light in the prison and Ryker had to use a lamp to see where they were going. A dripping sound was coming from their right and Dagur figured that there was a small hole in the ship's bottom. It would not be enough to sink the ship, but to cause an irritating leak. The floors looked as though dirt had been dumped onto them-which probably **had **happened. Sharp pieces of metal-from the inventory beneath the prison-poked up into the cells, making some points on the floor look like a porcupine. The last thing that Dagur noticed was that a foul odor filled the jail. Its stench was pungent enough to make even the most vicious of vikings ill.

Dagur was flung into the worst of the cells and the door was locked behind him. Using his abdominable muscles, he kept himself from being impaled. Ryker scowled at him, chained the viking to the wall, and returned upstairs, taking the light with him. Dagur frowned and groaned, "_What is **with** people and chains?!_" He missed the feeling of being able to separate his hands and feet without hindrance. Dagur decided to use his weight to pull him forwards and then his arms to bring him back, although he was unable to do too much because of his injury. "_Well, at least it'll let me be creative." _he thought.

Ryker reached his brother's office again and frowned, "Why didn't you let me kill him?" Viggo eyed him, "Because it has been too long since I have broken someone. The concept of it being done, properly, is foreign to you." When Ryker scowled, Viggo elaborated, "What do you consider broken, Brother?" Ryker pondered, "Dead, I suppose." Viggo nodded, sadly, "I will never understand **why **you do. Broken to me is not, necessarily, hurt or dead for the flesh, but on the inside. Whatever needs to happen to cause that, must be done and it has already been set into play." He smiled, calmly, but with a deadly air.

Hiccup and the riders flew to Berserker Island that morning. "Welcome, Berkians." Vorg greeted them, "Where's Dagur?" The riders landed by the Berserker, "Dagur got wounded by Alvin during the attack. He's captured right now and we couldn't find him anywhere last night." Hiccup divulged. The captain leapt into action, "Herald, tell the soldiers that we're heading out, immediately." The viking ran off to fetch the others and the vessels set sail. The dragon riders flew above them, keeping an eye out for any sign of another ship. They saw an Outcast ship and approached it, weapons and dragons ready. Hiccup and Toothless dove down, landing on the ship and being followed by the other riders. Alvin did not look surprised to see them, "Well, took ya long enough. Thought that you had forgotten about the lad." he scoffed. The words hurt the Berkian and Toothless readied his plasma blast. "Where is Dagur?" Hiccup questioned, threateningly.

The Outcast did not bat an eye, "Guess." he said, arrogantly. Hiccup glared into the man's soul, "I **know **where you're going to be, if you don't tell me." Unaffected, Alvin scoffed, but pointed towards the lower compartment. The riders brushed past Alvin, leaving him to deal with the Berserkers. They found the prison, but not Dagur. Frantically, the Berkian heir and Night Fury searched for something. They **did **find something, but they wished that they had not. Hiccup felt sick to his stomach and his knees almost gave out on him. Toothless kept him steady as the other riders neared where they were. In the last cell there was blood in an abundance that they had only heard about in stories. "He's not here, so he's still out there somewhere." Hiccup stated, resolutely. The other Berkians were hesitant to speak as they went back to the decks.

"What did you to him?" Hiccup asked Alvin, who had been pinned the ground and with a blade by his head. Alvin chuckled, "What **didn't **I? He's gone. Don't be expecting to see him again." Rage like never before filled Hiccup's chest and Astrid put a hand on his shoulder, preventing him from exploding. "You'll rot in our prisons for the rest of your, miserable life, Alvin." Vorg promised, "And, rest assured, it **will** be miserable." The Outcast was furious as Berserkers forced him onto a ship. The rest of the ships and the riders continued their search for the Berserker chief, determined not to believe Alvin. By nightfall, the riders had to return to Berk, but the Berserkers stayed out on the sea. Stoick saw the despondent look on the youths' faces. "Come here." he said, comfortably. They went over to him, "All we found was blood, Dad. Just blood." Hiccup said, shaken. The Berkian saddened, "I'm so sorry, Hiccup."

The other teenagers went to their homes, sadly, while the chief and heir spoke. "What are the Berserkers going to do now? They need a chief. What about Bluebolt? He's domesticated and doesn't have a rider anymore?" Hiccup inquired. "The Berserkers will probably have their captain or general lead from now on, until something can be decided. As for Bluebolt, he'll, most likely, stay on Berserker Island to protect the others." Stoick stated. Hiccup, barely, heard what had been said and patted Toothless's head, "I can't believe that he's gone. He can't be dead, Dad." Stoick looked at him, "Son, there is no reason that I can think of that would justify why Alvin would keep him alive. At least, he's in a better place now." he reassured.

Toothless made a sad grunt and Hiccup looked at him, "Dagur was my best friend before Toothless. My **only** friend. It-it's going to be different not having him around anymore." the boy said, trying to be strong. The dragon and Berkian went to the coast of the island to look at the sea. He was really gone. They would never hear his crazy laugh, or see his disturbing smile-that he never thought was anything other than normal. No more morbid jokes or bone-crushing hugs. They still had each other and the other Berkians, but it would not be the same. No, Dagur ways made an impact on whatever he did. His absence would be noticed, felt, and missed.


	16. Prisoner

Even in a cell, one could be productive. "_Fifty-seven. Fifty-eight."_ Dagur thought. He had grabbed the chains closest to the wall, using them to help him lift his lower half off the ground and do reps. When a sudden light appeared, he stopped. Ryker walked up to the cell, glaring, and Dagur gave him a winning smile in return, "Morning. Or is it night up there? So hard to tell." The hunter grunted, "Since you won't be out there getting us dragons, you can tell me how to." "How generous of you." The Berserker said, sarcastically. Ryker unlocked the door and entered, "Skrills are very rare and even more valuable. How did you train that one?" Dagur opened his mouth to say something caustic and stopped, laughing, "Actually, I really don't know. It kind of just happened." Ryker found nothing about that amusing and seized the prisoner's broken arm, "That doesn't help me." he growled.

Dagur glowered at the hunter, "I told you that I wouldn't." Calmly, Ryker loosened the chains on the wall, causing the Berserker to become suspicious. "_What's he planning?"_ he wondered. In an excruciating moment, Ryker lifted the boy and slammed him onto the ground. The Berserker let out a grunt, "_Yep, that makes more sense."_ he mused, bitterly. Briskly, the hunter tightened the chains again and got in Dagur's face. "Tell me something useful." he ordered. The Berserker kept his gaze cool, "When you go back to the deck, jump into the sea and inhale, deeply." Ryker's hand twitched, longing to draw his sword and sever the viking's torso from his legs. He restrained himself from doing so and, in a huff, locked the cell door again and left.

Ryker went to Viggo's study again, "If you don't want him dead, you'll have to help me deal with him." he told. The younger hunter sighed, "Very well. It seems that my work is never done." The siblings returned to the prison and entered the cell together. "I am sure that my brother mentioned to you how valuable Skrills are." Viggo stated. He received no response and continued, "As such, I intend on capturing one and shall require information. We have not encountered those dragons before, so what they eat, where they like to rest, and what they do when frightened are helpful things to know." Dagur scowled at them and Viggo frowned, slightly, "Your suffering is not so amusing that if you proceed along this path, you will be assured a place on this vessel." Still receiving nothing, Viggo motioned for his brother to utilize his weapon.

"Fine." the Berserker huffed, unhappily. Ryker's brow rose, "You'll tell us?" Dagur gave a death glare, but, solemnly, nodded, "Mind if I get a drink of water first?" Viggo smiled, "Of course we do not, friend. How unhospitable of us to dehydrate you." he gestured for Ryker to get the beverage and basked in his success. "You are not as arrogant as I had been led to believe, Dagur. Well done. However, I suppose that even fools can have a sense of self-preservation." he gloated. Dagur stayed silent, seemingly, being upset over the betrayal of his friends. Ryker returned with the water, but did not give it to him, "Information first." he stated. The boy frowned, "With this hoarse voice?" he asked, innocently. Ryker's reply was a grunt and Dagur spoke, "They eat shoals of minnows, like to stay around fields, and will go into the forest when spooked. Good enough for you?" Viggo nodded and the Berserker eyed the cup, "Then, can I be unchained to drink this?" The brothers looked at one another and smiled, smugly. Ryker downed the beverage and smirked, "Refreshing." He tossed the empty mug at Dagur's feet and the two left, "Thank you very much for your help, young one." Viggo called behind them. Dagur looked at the, pitiful, cup and smiled, himself. "_Anytime, Viggo. Anytime._"

The Grimborns went to look over their maps and Viggo pointed to a spot, "This is the only location that would provide all those things that he mentioned. Do go with them to ensure that we retrieve the Skrill." he suggested. Ryker bobbed his head in agreement and gathered the hunters to start their journey on another ship. The expedition took a few days to arrive and when they did, the hunters disembarked. "Scour the area." Ryker ordered. Vikings swarmed over the island like a layer of snow, searching for the electric dragon. After almost a week had gone by, the hunters approached Ryker. "Sir," one began, "we can't find a trace of **any** valuable dragon, let alone a Skrill. Only Terrible Terrors are on this island." Ryker scowled, "Let's head back." Again, they traveled their days' sailing and arrived back at the main hunter vessel. Ryker met up with his brother, looking furious.

"Would I be correct in thinking that you found nothing?" Viggo questioned. "He tricked us." his sibling growled. The smaller viking looked doubtful, "He is not intelligent enough to do such a thing. Let us see what he has to say on his error." They went to the prison and just missed the Berserker doing a hand stand by balancing with the chained wall. "The only place that fit your description failed. You lied." Ryker hissed. Dagur lifted his head to look at him, "Or you didn't search well enough." he shrugged. Internally, Dagur was laughing his heart out, "_Took longer than I thought for them to come back. A shame that they know these islands so well, otherwise I would've led to them to some Fireworm Island or one that didn't exist at all. A useless one worked, nicely, though."_

Ryker entered the cell and drew his weapon, "I don't take kindly to having my time wasted." With a quick movement, he slashed over Dagur's right eye and down his face. The boy closed his eye to prevent the blood from going into it, "I see." Dagur told him, then laughed at his accidental wording. The hunter raised his weapon for another slash, but Viggo stopped him, "Ever the hasty one, Brother. Slowly." he instructed. Taking a deep breath, Ryker grabbed Dagur's head and put the blade a little under the same eye. He started to cut it, slowly, and had to halt. "This takes too long." he stated, exasperated, "I can't do this. Can I do the fast attacks?" Viggo waved him off, "If you must, but the longer you go, the more pain is induced. Allow me to demonstrate. Keep his head still." Ryker kept his hands on the Berserker's head, preventing any pulling back or away.

Viggo drew his own sword and lined it up near the prisoner's right temple. Leisurely, Viggo began to carve the skin, waiting for any response. Dagur bit his lip and kept his expression unreadable. The slice went all the way down to where the first one ended. Still obtaining no grunt or complaint, the hunter took the blade to where the last cut was, by the side of the eye, and let the carvings intercept. Warm blood trickled down Dagur's face, but the most annoying lart to him was that he knew there would be scars. A permanent reminder of his time there. Since so much time had been lost going on a wild goose chase, the Grimborns could not waste anymore with him and returned to the deck.

Days went by and Viggo assumed that his inmate's lack of food and water would be enough to weaken his spirit as well as body. Dagur overcompensated by training in any way that he could. While food was, normally, necessary to train the best, he **had** to grow stronger. He looked at where the chains met and how they connected to the wall. "_I wonder if I can loosen them up, myself."_ He started to pull at the chains, bringing his arms forward as much as possible. A bit of leeway occurred and he smiled, happily. Dagur heard some footsteps and saw the glimmer of a lamp, alerting him to the arrival of a hunter again. They had been put on a schedule that every hour, one hunter would go down there. "You're never getting out of here." one said, spitefully. Dagur rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at the viking. With a huff, the hunter left, "Stupid ol' lunatic." The Berserker, in a way, liked that the hunters thought him to be an idiot. Being underestimated could be a blessing.

The hunters coming and going, frequently, made for no sleep to come. Anytime that they were present, Dagur had to be awake, so that he knew what was happening. Also, anytime that he was alone, he rationalized that he needed to train. Prioritizing was an important task. The hour came when a hunter was to come, but it was Ryker. He entered the cell and stared, "You look different." he noticed. Dagur frowned, "I mean, it would be impressive **not** to change appearances down here." Ryker glared at him, "That's not what I'm talking about. You're training. Preparing to escape." The Berserker feigned hurt, "You don't trust me?" Ryker stared harder and grabbed at the chains on the wall, "These are looser." he declared, accusingly. He gripped Dagur's throat, tightly. "Always with the choking." the boy said, hoarsely.

"I'm getting tired of seeing you, so you better be grateful to my brother for letting you live." Ryker said, squeezing his working hand, trying to make a fist. Spotting the wall behind them, the hunter mashed Dagur's head into the wood. As Dagur's throat was released, a fist met his temple and caused him to go the ground, closer to the chained wall. Ryker raised his foot and Dagur, instinctively, put his arms over his head. The foot went into his stomach instead, knocking the, newly coming, breath back out of the viking. In an instant too quick and subtle to notice, fear flashed in the boy's eyes. The expression was not one that was in the moment, though, and had a distance look to it. Ryker yoked Dagur back to his feet and tightened the chains again. He eyed him, pensively, and began to draw his blade. "Best to prevent you from going anywhere." he decided. The blade made contact with Dagur's right leg, digging into the back of his knee. A grunt of pain escaped the Berserker's lips as he was forced to stand, using his other appendage.

Ryker locked the cell up, "Start getting used to this. It'll happen a lot more, now." he promised and left. The hunter kept true to his word. Everyday, Ryker came and made Dagur's life an even worse nightmare than it already was. The wound on his side was healing, but he had to worry about his leg as well. The slash could have taken it off, but it **did **succeed in making moving it excruciating. Of course, he had not been able to really try walking on it yet. Dagur remained steadfast and pursued with training every second he could. He tried to diagnose himself for what injuries he might have sustained, but everytime he tried, his mind wandered to something along the lines of revenge. He worked best in a non-cluttered area and the cell was getting messier with each of Ryker's visits. Dagur's head had been slammed into the wooden wall so much that it had splintered and broken off into bits. He reached down to grab a piece and felt to see how sharp it was. Bringing it to his left forearm, he began to carve names.

First off was Alvin. Savage made his way on the listas well. Obviously, Ryker and Viggo. Dagur caught the names of a few more hunters that, particularly, were cruel and added them. He was worried that with all the blows to his head, he might forget about who caused all those things to happen. Every so often, he felt like he was blanking out and loathed that. His mind was, naturally, damaged enough without the assistance of concussions. The tattooing was less painful than what had and was happening to him. Any sharp sting that burned his flesh only reminded him of **why** he needed to do such a thing. Sometimes, the promise of killing his enemies and imagining how he would, was just what was helpful for keeping him strong. Ryker noticed that the prisoner's spirit had not been broken and went to speak with Viggo.

"He's not destroyed, Brother." he informed. Viggo's eyebrow rose, "I had not anticipated him lasting so long. I must admit that we underestimated him.

Our tactics are required to alter. Continue your daily visits, if you find it necessary, but **I **am going to take a larger part in this, now." Viggo went to the cell alone, "Hello, Dagur." The inmate just looked at him. "Surely, you have guessed that my brother informed me about your training a while ago. No doubt, you are thinking of executing each and everyone of us in a most gruesome way." The hunter brought the lamp close to Dagur's face, hurting his, darkness adjusted, eyes. "While I have no doubt that you would do that, you are not as ruthless as you try to appear." Dagur stayed quiet, but eyed him, suspiciously. "Do not look so surprised. We both know that you did not really kill your father."

The Berserker kept his eyes from widening, "What makes you think that?" he questioned, coldly. Viggo smiled, "As I said when we first met, the eyes are the portals to the soul. The **windows**, if you will. Through yours I can see that you would not hesitate to kill me right now, if given the chance. Despite all this, I do not see such a cruelty that would allow you to murder your own family member, solely, for the purpose of a title that you would obtain later anyway." The hunter looked thoughtful, "Of course, that would mean that your father, simply, abandoned you. It must be difficult knowing that he cared so little. Did you have any friends or other family members back on the island?" Dagur glared at him. "Any mother around longer than giving birth and leaving?" The Berserker's glare turned more deadly and clenched his jaw. Viggo sighed, "I suppose that you must not have. After all, if you had been respected by them, you would not have felt the need to cause them to fear opposing you."

"Your only sense of companionship could have been with the Berkians. How unfortunate for you that they have, also, abandoned you. And in your time of need, no less." Viggo stated. Disbelief was clear on Dagur's face and the hunter continued on, "They have not come to retrieve you. It has been months and you are still here. Neither their fleets, their dragons, your armada, nor your dragon have come to help you. You are alone. Left to our mercy and in our jurisdiction. A pitiful state for a chief. Perhaps the Berserkers are too ashamed to come search for you. Or maybe the Berkians thought that you were an unavoidable nuissance and are glad to, finally, be rid of you." Viggo rose to leave, "Do get some rest. You look, terribly, exhausted." Dagur watched him leave and could help feeling hurt. The fact that he was still there, did not make him feel confident, but he wanted to give the vikings the benefit of a doubt. "_Maybe something happened and they just can't find me."_ he thought hopefully.

More months went by and Dagur's exercising was beginning to reap rewards. Muscles were starting to sculp his lean frame and he loved that they were. Veins bulged on his arms and his body was firm from training. He had been given some food, so that he would stay around. It was small and about to mold, though. Hardly a meal fit for a living being, but he was glad to have something and it helped his tonation. He was still kept chained to the wall, especially since he was becoming stronger. One evening, the Grimborns came into his cell, Ryker holding something in his hand. "To what do I owe this visit?" Dagur asked, properly. "I wish to test out a new formula." Viggo admitted. Ryker revealed that he was carrying a dart and put it into a vein on Dagur's arm.

The serum burned as it coursed through the Berserker's body. His hands and eyes began to twitch. Suddenly, the prison bars started to melt and form into random objects. The room spun and played an irritating song as Dagur closed his eyes to not get dizzy, "Wh-what **was** that?" he stammered. Viggo observed him, intently, "Something that should cause hallucinations." "_Greeaat."_ Dagur thought, sarcastically, "_Okay, it's all fake. Not real in the slightest."_ he reassured himself. The room had stopped its twirling and a swarm of Terrible Terrors circled around him. While not pleasurable, he was still okay with that and held his ground, feeling nothing. He heard a growl and turned to see Bluebolt. The Skrill snarled, fiercely, at him, "_No."_ Dagur mused, _"you're not really trying to attack me. Just another illusion."_

"So you aren't dead yet, huh?" a disappointed voice asked. Dagur saw Hiccup frowning at him. "Nope, but I don't need to talk to a mirage, so bye bye." he shooed for him to leave. The Berkian scoffed, "A '**mirage'**? You're more stupid than I thought, 'Brother'." Hiccup said the title in such a cold and condescending way that, despite knowing he was fake, it still hurt, "You didn't really think that we were friends, did you?" Dagur turned away from the illusion, ignoring his remarks. When he heard some chuckling, he looked to see Alvin. The Outcast stalked over to him with a creepy smile. Dagur swallowed, hard, "You're fake too." Alvin kept walking, "Am I?" The Outcast came close to the restrained viking, reaching out a hand to touch him. Dagur bit at the hand, not having anything else to use and heard a, judgemental, snort. "How the dainty have fallen more." Ansson stated, "A Berserker chief. **Here**. Being imprisoned by dragon hunters and harassed by an Outcast. Can there be no end to the shame you've brought my people?"

Alvin disappeared and Ansson stepped forward, "**I **should be chief. In fact, I think, I'll take your place, since you'll be in here forever. Wouldn't catch me in a situation like this, like ya. Bet ya **still** can't beat me in a fight. If ya weren't chained up, I'd prove that." he eyed him up and down, shaking his head, "Just a disgrace." "More than anyone could ever know." another voice added. Oswald came into view and looked at his son, disapprovingly, "So, **this **is who my Berserkers have to lead them. A prisoner." Dagur kept his gaze cool. "Speak, when I'm conversing with you, boy." the former chief said, sternly. Dagur frowned, "I'm only hear because I was protecting someone." Oswald nodded, "Yes, Heather, wasn't it? She never would have been in danger, if it weren't for you in the first place!" he yelled. Dagur shrunk a bit from his father's fury, "I did what had to be done."

"Like replace me as chief." Oswald stated, upset, "Just leave me to die, why don't you? For all you know, I could be enduring the same tortures that **you** are." The thought of a family member of his going through what he was, formed a lump in Dagur's throat. He swallowed it down and stood firm, "You told me not to tell anyone. I'm not in the wrong for complying. Any other time, you'd be mad at me for disobeying." The older Berserker came up to him, "You have **ruined** this family, Dagur. Always remember that. Especially as you rot here, alone and unloved." Dagur diverted his eyes from the man's harsh glare, "You're not here." he whispered. Oswald stepped away from him, "Right. Silly me for forgetting. I'm not here-" his face was full of disgust, "I'm **dead**."

Dagur hung his head in shame as pain filled him. He could not stop shaking from the visions that haunted and wrecked his brain. They hurt him mentally, emtionally, and physically. He let out yells of agony and anguish and kept turning red from rage and embarrassment. Deep down he knew that he looked like a fool for reacting to imaginary foes, but they seemed so real. Dagur was still determined to stay strong, despite the torture. He did not cry and did not beg for mercy. What he **did **do, was laugh. He laughed for every tear that wanted to fall and every tremble that yearned to commence. After all, laughing at situations was his trademark. Why change? Why not live in his moniker of being deranged?


	17. Out and About

Drip, drip, drip went the leak in the wall. Darkness without the slighest bit of light. Repulsive odors that laid siege to your senses, mercilessly. Unclean accommodations as well as being forced to be unclean. These were some of the many reasons Dagur had trained past the point where most would have been forced to stop. He would escape that cesspool, if it were the last thing he did. Death was better than torture, anyway. He was, finally, strong enough to breakout and he just needed to put his plan into motion. There was one hunter, other than the Grimborns, that had the keys to his cell. All he needed to do was wait for one of those three to arrive.

The voices of some non-helpful hunters rang through the prison, "Let's go tell him." they laughed, scornfully. Three hunters came to Dagur's cell and smirked at him, "Guess what, prisoner?" The Berserker did not respond. "Viggo's leading your little Berkian friends into a trap." Dagur's head rose, slightly. The hunters cackled, "They're so stupid that they think they're actually going to be **helping** this one trader. Retrieve his gold before any criminals can, but what they don't know is that the place is booby trapped and surrounded by giant eels! 'The Reaper', the ship's called. Like the sound of your 'so called' pals flying straight into their own demises?" Rage burned in Dagur's throat, but he did not lash out. "What? Nothing to say? About time." one scoffed.

"Why should I care about them?" Dagur inquired, his voice dripping with bitterness, "They left me here, didn't they?" The hunters grinned and puffed up, "They sure did." The inmate eyed them coldly, "Is the trader in on the betrayal?" They nodded, "We don't know his name, but he's an ally of ours." Dagur swayed a bit, seeming quite mentally ill, "Where's this all going down, anyway. It'd be fun to imagine it as vivdly as possible." he grinned, dementedly. Shrugging was all the hunters could do, "We don't memorize things like that, but we've got some maps." Dagur feigned disappointment and lowered his head a bit, "Least know when it'll be?" They thought, "Uh, early tomorrow, I think." Becoming bored, a hunter started to leave, "The next shift'll be showing up soon. Wonder what they'll have to say about all this." he chuckled and the three left the jail.

Dagur whistled some melodies as he waited for the next group of hunters to come. It was like clockwork. The hunter with a key always showed up after those three did, so the Berserker was just bidding his time. He rocognized a voice as belonging to his target, "Time to see what that scumbag's up to. Better not catch him training or anything, else I'll tell Ryker about that and it'll make his visit even better." Dagur scowled, but changed his face when they came into view. As much as he wanted to kill the Grimborns, he would not wait for Ryker to show up. First off, he was never consistent with his time and second off, he always came with an assortment of weaponry. The viking had no intention of starting his first fight(since being imprisoned)with the very definition of arsenal, itself.

Inhaling deeply, the prisoner began to freak out. He yelled jargon and the clanked chains, causing a commotion. The hunters rushed over, "Quiet in there!" one yelled. The order was not followed and the guards entered the cell to restrain the viking. They managed to subdue him and left, shaking their heads, "Crazy." they said. Dagur smiled to himself as he felt the key in his left hand, "_Oh, Dagur."_ he thought,_ "You never disappoint._" Barely audible, he chuckled. Feeling for the keyhole, he unchained his wrists and then ankles. It felt so good to let them get some air, but he could not waste time on that. Dagur unlocked the cell and began to creep around the prison. He had an advantage where the hunters did not. Due to being in the darkness for so long, his eyes had adjusted to see in the night where as the other vikings only traveled down there, daily.

The former keyholding viking never even saw Dagur coming and only felt hands grabbing his head. With a large smile, Dagur forced the hunger's head too far back, snapping his neck. The escaper felt a rush go through his body, _"That feels good."_ Silently, the hunter collapsed and the Berserker took his ax. He went to go after the other two hunters-they always did their rounds in threes. Unbeknownst to a hunter, Dagur walked in front of him and slashed with his new ax. This slit the man's throat and let him fall, dead. Dagur took the hunter's club in his other hand and found the final hunter. Ramming the club into the hunter's left temple, he killed him. Dagur climbed up to the deck and saw that it was night out. He looked through the ship and found the rest of the hunters that had come to do their rounds with him. The viking took a sword and, expertly, threw it into the chest of a hunter, causing him to fall into another and, accidentally, injure him with his ax.

A hunter tried to see what the issue was and Dagur ran him through, using his ax. He walked up to the one wounded hunter, who began to plead, "Don't kill me! I never meant any of those things I said. Just wanted to fit in!" Dagur stopped and eyed a blade, "Well," he started, chuckling and twirling it with his fingers, "**This** can fit in **you**." He stabbed the blade under the hunter's jaw, going upwards into his head. Soon, there were no hunters left to kill and Dagur searched for the Grimborns, "_No more flunkies, Grimborns. You're up."_ He went through every room, looking for the brothers, but could find not one trace of them. He grunted in frustration and looked through what was in the main hunter's office. Some papers were in a compartment and Dagur took them out. "_Ooh, do we have the maps here?"_ He looked for anything else that could be useful and grabbed them as well.

Seeing nothing more he eyed the room, "_No need to waste a perfectly good vessel."_ he realized, going to the main navigation area and hoisting the main sail. It was smooth sailing and he was glad that he knew how to work a ship, by himself. When he got to a point where there was nothing to crash into and the winds could let him coast, he let go of the wheel. Dagur rubbed his wrists and ankles, trying to get the blood to flow, fluidly, back and forth. Being, tightly, chained for three years had a bit of a negative effect on you. A pain shot through Dagur's body and his hands went to his head, tearing at his hair on the sides. He groaned and it, slowly, eased up, leaving him. The young man breathed, heavily, and grabbed hold of the wheel just in time to miss a jaggard rock.

Looking behind him, he saw nothing. "_It was **just** there."_ he thought, confused and annoyed. He shook his head to clear his mind and turned his focus to the seas. Some old and damaged ships were ahead of him and he anchored near them. Since he had some time, he dragged the bodies over to the side of the ship, "Hate to litter, guys, buutt..." he sang, dumping all, but two bodies into the water. Dagur looked around for a washroom, but there seemed to be none on the ship. "_Gross things."_ he thought, grumpily. He returned to the side of the ship and sighed. So good felt the very concept of a nice bath and undisturbed sleep, but they would have to wait. He had important business. The flapping of wings took hold of his attention and he saw the riders land on a ship a few away from his. Moving along the decks, he went over to them.

"So, split up and look for any treasure that Trader Johann might have here. We don't want anyone else coming and stealing it." Hiccup told them. Toothless sniffed the air and his ears perked up, happily. He nudged his friend, who petted him in return. "What about **that **ship?" Fishlegs inquired, fearfully, pointing to 'The Reaper', "You aren't going to see what's in there, are you?" The Berkian heir nodded, "I will, but we might as well go from closest to furthest." Snotlout crossed his arms, "Scared of a little boat, Fishface? Ooh, look out. Next, you might be running from someone's hut." he antagonized. The larger viking scowled and went over to Meatlug, "How do we load all the treasure up, though, Hiccup?" The viking thought, "Well, we'll probably have to-" he trailed off and jumped onto Toothless's saddle. The other riders followed his lead with their own dragons. "Stay back." Hiccup ordered, defensively.

Dagur raised his hands, peacefully and, quickly, took in everything. The dragons looked healthy still, of course they did, and he could see that while their riders were ready to attack, **they** were not. On the topic of the riders, Dagur observed their changed appearances. Hiccup, Fishlegs, and Tuffnut had added braided styles to their hair and they and Astrid and Ruffnut had gotten taller. Snotlout looked about the same height as before, but all of their outfits had changed. Before Dagur could speak, Toothless rushed over to him and nuzzled his head against him, lovingly. He smiled up at the Berserker, who returned the expression. Hiccup was shocked that the Night Fury had gone up to a complete stranger the way that he had, "Toothless, what's gotten into you?" he chastised. Dagur looked at the Berkian, "We're just having a reunion. It's been too long, Brother."

Hiccup's eyes went wide, "D-Dagur?" The older viking gave a dramatic bow, "In the flesh." Hiccup got off of his dragon and was embraced in a hug, immediately. The heir pulled back and had a questioning look, "How are you here? What happened? Where have you been these last three years?" He could, hardly, see the viking in the pitch black night, so he could not see the changes as Dagur had with them. The other riders were, also, happy to see that the Berserker was all right. "Can't explain all that now, Hiccup. You've been set up. There are giant eels roaming around these waters and that ship over there," he gestured, "is 'The Reaper'. It's covered in traps." This put the Berkians on edge. "Giant eels and traps?!" Fishlegs asked, terrified. "Yeah, whoo! Giant eels and traps!" the twins echoed, except enthusiastically. Hiccup frowned, "We can't just leave everything here." Dagur eyed the seas, "I didn't say to do that, but I let you know what we have to deal with." he grinned, with a deranged twinkle in his eyes.

The riders looked at their dragons, "If we go down fast enough, they shouldn't get spooked by any eels." Astrid told. Dagur's brow rose, "They won't stay?" The Berkian patted Stormfly's head, "Even **they **have their limits. Toothless always stays, though." Splitting up, the riders found jewels, books, and hair, but Hiccup could not tear his eyes away from "The Reaper". "What are we waiting for? It's not like you're going to leave here without looking on that ship." Dagur said to him. The Berkian chuckled, "All these years and you **still** know me." The elder viking kept his expression unreadable, "I wouldn't forget you." he stated. Hiccup could not decipher the Berserker's tone of voice and returned his thoughts to the ship, "Toothless can fit down there with me." Dagur made a skeptical face, "And what? Get killed by whatever traps have been laid in place?" he asked, smugly, "What we need is someone that can't get hurt. Someone who-per chance-is already dead."

In horror, Hiccup watched as Dagur dragged two corpses over to the vessel. "What are you doing with those?!" he inquired, in a panic. The Berserker crossed his arms, annoyed and took a deep breath, "Remember, we'll talk after we get **away** from the giant, bloodthirsty, eels. Fair?" Hesitantly, Hiccup nodded and he, Dagur, and the two hunters went onto "The Reaper". Carefully aiming him right where someone would step, Dagur dropped one body down the hatch. A trap sprang and dug into the corpse. "And to think that you've been you." Dagur noted. Hiccup scoffed, "I could've stepped with my prosthetic foot." The Berserker rolled his eyes, "Conditional statement. Let's see if we can reuse him." Cautiously, Dagur crept down the ladder and pried the trap off of the hunter. Then, he flung him across the room, where it got filled with arrows. Going into the hallway, the three saw cages and dragon skeletons. Toothless let out a little whimper and Hiccup comforted him, "I know, Bud. I know."

They went further, Dagur keeping the second hunter in front of them. They came up to a room that had a skeleton holding an object. The Berserker frowned at the body, which wore an outfit similar to Ryker's, "Maybe whatever that is, we shouldn't take it." Hiccup looked at him, "Why shouldn't we?" Dagur pursed his lips together, "They wanted you to come here, so they-most likely-want you to make it easy for them by taking this." Hiccup eyed the object, "Or, we can use it to help dragons and counteract the purpose of its very existence." he stated, hopefully. His friend was beyond doubtful, "You're about to grab that, aren't you?" Hiccup nodded and the Berserker sighed, heavily, "Then, let's at least use this. As soon as you grab that, run " he instructed and prodded at the object with the body. When the skeleton had been removed from the item, Hiccup snatched it and ran as he had been instructed.

The three reached the hatch and heard as arrows had shot out behind them. Hiccup smiled down at the object in his hand and saw Snotlout's scowl, "**That's **all you got? We found **treasure**, Hiccup. You know, that useful stuff." he chastised. Hiccup started to explain how it could be beneficial as Dagur looked around for anything to pop up out of the water. "We can load up the ship and transport the treasure." he told the riders. They made their way over to the vessel with the jewels when an eel leapt out to devour them. Dagur threw a blade into its eye and tossed some treasure onto the ship, "Come on!" he called. The riders, quickly, moved what was on the other ships to his, staying on their dragons, so that they could not leave them. Dagur saw a gigantic eel come onto the vessel and he grabbed a sword, slashing at it. As he sliced the air, it faded into smoke. Concerned, he turned to see the disturbed faces of the riders. "What were you doing?" Fishlegs asked. Dagur opened his mouth to answer and rethought his statement, "Let's head out."

The Berserker steered outwards and realized that he had no idea where he was going, "Eh, where's Berk?" he inquired, sheepishly. Hiccup walked over to him, still squinting from the darkness, "It's up North. I can lead you there." Dagur followed the directions and eyed the Berkian, "Is Heather still on Berk?" he asked. "Yep, she's been there since those three years ago." Hiccup responded, his voice grew sad, "Her parents died, though." Dagur turned from the wheel, "Really? They should've been all right." he mumbled to himself. "I think, they lost their spirit." the Berkian surmised. Dagur exhaled, deeply, "That'll do it." Trying to lighten to mood he smirked at Hiccup, "Are you and Astrid a thing, yet?" The heir turned beet red, "What? No! We're just friends." Dagur gave a sound of disagreement, but did not press the matter.

"Do you know how my Berserkers are?" Dagur questioned. Hiccup rubbed the back of his head, "They're okay, I guess. They're a little out of control without a formal leader." The older viking could hear in Hiccup's tone that he was about to start **his **questioning and tried to stall, "How're your dad and Gobber doing?" Dagur asked. "They're doing fine." was his, curt, answer, "Now, Dagur, what's happened for all this time?" "Are we almost there?" Dagur asked, referring to Berk. "Dagur," Hiccup said, sternly. The Berserker squeezed the wheel of the ship, "Not too much to say. Alvin captured me and kept me there for a day, and then I went to these other vikings. They were dragon hunters and led by the Grimborn Brothers. Just stayed there for the whole time." Hiccup crossed his arms, "And the bodies?" Dagur laughed, "Well, let's just say that they didn't plan our rendez-vous."

Hiccup's eyes had shock in them, "You killed everyone on this ship?" Dagur gave a nod, "Would've gotten those siblings too, but they weren't here." he stated, angrily. Not too much more could be said as Berk came into view. Dagur pulled the ship into the island's harbor and helped the riders unload the wealth. Stoick and Gobber came down to see what was going on and saw the happy faces of the riders. "Did you vikings find some more dragons, or something?" Gobber asked, confused. "Better." Hiccup replied, "Dagur found **us**." The eyes of the two Berkians gaped, "He's still alive?" Stoick inquired, shocked. His son led him down to the docks, "Glad you're all right." the chief told the viking. Night concealed the slight look of contempt that had gone over the Berserker's face, "Good to see everyone else is too." he stated.

The unloading was in process and all the talking got Heather's attention. "Hey, what's going on?" she asked, coming over to the shipyard. She tried to let her eyes adjust to the darkness, but only saw silhouettes of vikings. "Dagur's here." Fishlegs told her. "What?" she exclaimed, happily, "He's not gone?" "Nope." the smile was evident in the Ingerman's speech. As soon as Dagur saw Heather, he recognized her and gave her a hug-as gentle as his excited nature could muster. "It's so good to see you again!" he said. The younger viking chuckled, "I'm really glad you're okay." she divulged. "I never got to thank you for saving my life. Or apologize for putting yours in jeopardy." He looked at her, "I'd do it again a million times, Heather". Dagur paused, "I need to tell you something." He took a deep breath and cleared his throat as the sun rose over Berk.

The light hurt Dagur's eyes and he turned away from the sun, grimacing. The very warmth it gave seemed to burn his body and it took a while for him to be able to open his eyes, even with his hand shielding them. As he looked again, he saw the expressions on the Berkians' faces. Hiccup was glad that it had been night when Dagur had arrived because he would not have recognized him, otherwise. Almost everything about the Berserker looked different. His hair had been cut short; he was growing in a, scraggly, beard; a large scar ran across the right side of his face; words were written on his forearm; bags were under his eyes; his, usually, well-kept clothes were torn and tattered; and he was the same height as he had been before, not growing taller as the heir had expected of him. The only familiar things about the viking were his spirited eyes, thicker hair, and chieftain tattoos.

Dagur rocked, uncomfortably, on his feet and Hiccup went over to him. The viking was not, entirely, sure what to say, so Snotlout spoke, "You look like you got the yak dung beaten out of you." Heather hit him in the side, "Ow, it's not **my** fault." The twins sucked their teeth, "Harsh, Snotty, very insensitive; however, the truth **does **hurt." Tuffnut stated. The Berserker could feel heat rise in his cheeks and he turned his back, grabbing some more cartons. "And you're limping." Hiccup noted, worried. Mentally, Dagur cursed, "_New information **there**_," he thought, sarcastically, then sighed. "What other injuries do you have, Dagur?" Hiccup asked him. "None that I can't handle when I get back to my island." the older viking stated, calmly. Dagur went to put down the box when Hiccup stepped in front of him, "Will you go see Gothi?" Dagur brushed past him, "Your healer? No, I've got it covered." He said, setting down the box of hair, "That really **is** weird." _"Bet it's what Alvin's doing to mine."_ he thought, spitefully.

Hiccup was unrelenting, "Dagur, you've had an extremely long three years. You can rest here, at least, for the day." There **were **things that Dagur wanted to do that would require a bit of time, so some time to freshen up was a pleasurable idea. Stroking his beard in contemplation, Dagur caved, "Fine. I'll stay for the day." he conceded. Hiccup smiled and Dagur raised his finger, accusingly, "But, **just** for today. I'll be out of here before tomorrow reaches high noon." he prefaced. The Berkian nodded, "I'll take what I can get." The friends shook hands on the deal and Hiccup offered to help the Berserker walk. Dagur frowned at the outreached hand, "I said, I'll hang out. Not that I'm an invalid." he shooed Hiccup away, invoking a laugh from the Berkian. Trying not to look too concerned, Hiccup led Dagur to one of the guest huts. A thought kept repeating itself in the heir's mind, "_I might not have helped him through all of that, but I'll do what I can now. I have to make it up to him."_


	18. Reunions

Dagur and Hiccup came up to a hut and the Berserker stopped, his face dropping a bit, "Are there any clothes that I can wear from here?" he asked, embarrassed, "I-I don't have anything." Hiccup smiled, assuringly, "We've got plenty. Just wait here and I can get you some new armor." Before Dagur could protest about not getting it for himself, Hiccup rushed off. The other riders came up to speak with the Berserker and he perked up, "Have you seen Bluebolt, lately?" he asked, excitedly. "Not really **lately**, but we've gone to check on the island a couple a times." Dagur smiled, "I really appreciate that." he said, sincerely. Despite the warning looks that Snotlout received, he kept staring at the Berserker, skeptically, "I thought you'd be taller."

Dagur's smile faded and turned into a snarl, "Kinda hard to grow under those circumstances. What's **your** excuse?" he questioned. The Jorgenson stammered and Hiccup came up to the group, "Here you go." he handed the new garments to Dagur. "Thanks." the Berserker replied, gratefully. Hiccup turned to the others, "What's going on here?" he asked, feeling the tension. "Nothing." Astrid reassured him, frowning at Snotlout. The riders left and Dagur entered the hut, finding a tub and heating up some rocks underneath the item. When it was warm enough, he removed his clothes and climbed into the water. The heat soothed his muscles and he let himself relax. As he was doing this, Hiccup was going up to see Gothi.

The Berkian knocked on the door and the small lady emerged. "Gothi, I need you to do a physical for a certain viking." Hiccup requested. The shorter viking raised a brow. "He's Dagur. You remember him, right?" Gothi shrugged, nonchalantly. "Well, will you do it?" The heir pressed. The healer slumped, exasperated and wrote, "_Don't you think that I have enough patients without healing visitors too?_ _Don't they have healers on Berserker Island?_" Hiccup's brow furrowed, "He's my friend, Gothi and it'll take too long for him to wait until he gets back. It's not going to be a regular thing-trust me, he won't like it anymore than you will." Gothi sighed, inaudibly, and complied. "Great, thanks." the heir told her before leaving.

Dagur had just tended to his wounds and exited the hut, contentedly. Hiccup walked over to him, "I got Gothi to agree to look at you." The Berserker eyed him, "And there. I looked at **you**. Let's consider it all done, then." he went past the Berkian, who sped up to keep pace with the older viking, "You're **still** limping, though, Dagur. I know what it's like to have leg problems." he reminded him. Dagur did not slow down, "I know, you know. After enough training, it won't be able to hinder me and I'll learn to deal with what's left." Hiccup tried to say something, but Dagur raised his hand to stop him, "If you want to help me, tell me where Heather is. I really need to talk to her." The Berkian was confused by this, but smirked, "Let's make a deal. I'll tell bring you to Heather **after** you get the checkup. Worst comes to worst, you can get some extra first aid. Everyone knows that Gothi's the best healer in the archipelago." Dagur frowned and the two stared each other down. The heir was unmoving with his stance and the chief was too achy to complain about possible relief. "Okay." he grumbled. Hiccup grinned with satisfaction, "This way."

The two made their way up to Gothi's hut where she opened the door before it was even rapped. The viking's eyes widened at how much the Berserker had changed and, immediately, went into "healer mode". She drew, furiously, in the dirt as Dagur watched her in amusement, "Uh, hello." he offered. She did not raise her head and he looked at Hiccup, "Are you going to tell me what she's saying or-?" he dragged. Hiccup frowned at the message, "Is that really necessary?" She kept writing and he continued, "Do you, at least, have a towel?" Hiccup asked the lady. She huffed and went into her hut. "What was that about?" Dagur asked, totally lost. "She.. wants you to undress." Hiccup told, awkwardly. The Berserker blinked, blankly, "Excuse me?" "That's why I asked her for the towel." Hiccup said, hurriedly, before he lost the viking's compliance, completely.

"I'm not-" Dagur yelled, angrily, and was interrupted by the little old lady handing him a towel. He calmed down and spoke, "I am not going to be wearing only this towel. Whatever you need to do, you can do with my clothes **on**." he stated, firmly. Gothi crossed her arms and scribbled. "What now?" he inquired, frustrated, and raising his arms. "She says that this is the only way she can examine your wounds. It makes sense." Hiccup defended. The largest pout was on Dagur's face, "_I don't want anyone to see my scars." _he thought, miserably. "Do **you** have to be here too?" he questioned. Hiccup thought about it, "Kind of. If I know what's wrong, I'll be able to help you with it down the line." His friend's grunt turned into a regular growl, but he snatched the towel and went into the hut, as Gothi pointed for him to.

Dagur, self-concsiously, exited the home and Gothi motioned for him to sit down in a chair. Grumpily, he complied, shoulders slouched a bit, and she walked over to him. Seeing the Berkian heir walk over, Dagur tried to imagine himself somewhere else, but failed. Hiccup felt a pit in his stomach as he saw all the bruises and scars that coated his friend's body. In one of her rare moments of gentleness, Gothi took some cream and ran her hand over the scars. Dagur tensed at the contact and his eyes had a far away look in them. "Dagur!" Hiccup called for the sixth time, trying to get the young man's attention. The Berserker snappped back to the situation, "Yep?" he asked. The Berkian's face was full of worry, "Um, Gothi said that most of the scars won't cause anymore harm, but the one on your side had damaged a lung. It seemed to heal all right, however just try to avoid any injuries to the area, so that it won't reopen the wound." Rage flashed in Dagur's eyes, "I wasn't **trying **to get slashed!" he bellowed. Hiccup stepped back and Gothi eyed them both, observingly.

Dagur cleared his throat and calmed down, "Sorry." he apologized, "I'll try to avoid injuries." he said, through a forced smile. He looked at Gothi, "Is your examining done?" She nodded and he reentered the hut to dress. Emerging, quickly, he went back over, "Okay, what's your vedict?" The healer wrote in the dirt. "She says that you'll be able to run still, but your knee was cut too deeply and wasn't allowed to heal, properly. Some of the pain will always be there. The same goes for the limp. I'm sorry, Dagur." Hiccup stated, sincerely. The Berserker's face was blank, "Is that all?" Gothi wrote more, "She says, 'All that I can tell off-hand, but I want to check your eyes. You've been squinting a lot'." Dagur, swiftly, widened his eyes to a normal amount, "What would you do?" Instead of answering, Gothi motioned for him to stay where he was standing and had Hiccup move a large distance away with a scroll. "Can you read any of this?" The Berkian called.

Dagur made a face of discontent, "At that distance, I couldn't have **before** either." he stated. Hiccup stepped forward, "Anything yet?" he inquired. The Berserker shook his head. This continued and Dagur's heart raced, "_It seems like he's standing a foot away and I can't read it, clearly."_ his breath quickened and he attempted to bring it down, so as to not let it be noticed. "You **still** can't see this, can you?" Hiccup questioned. Dagur tried harder than ever to decipher what was on the scroll, but could not. His head lowered, ashamedly, and he shook it in response. Mentally kicking himself, he straightened up, "That's only because I was in the dark for so long. The sun, itself, is rather uncomfortable right now. The longer I'm out in the daylight, the more I'll get reacclimated." he said, assuredly.

"Or this is per-" Hiccup began. "-sonally an irritating thing to deal with." Dagur finished, frowning, slightly. He brightened up at a memory, "If that's everything, dear Hiccup, I believe that you promised me a visit with Heather?" Hiccup breathed, heavily, "All right. Follow me." Dagur grinned and waved goodbye to Gothi, "Thanks for the info!" he called, hurrying off to speak with the viking. Hiccup had a question burning in his throat just waiting to be released into the world, "Why are you so persistent with speaking to Heather? You've only met her that one time, right?" The Berserker smirked, "That's what she thinks too. I can't answer your Hiccupy questions until I talk to her. Wouldn't be fair otherwise!" he said, excitedly, practically bouncing with each step. They came up to a hut and Hiccup gestured to it, "This is it. Should I wait out here?" Dagur flicked his wrist, "Nope. I can take it from here, Brother. I'll tell you what this is all about later." he promised. Reluctantly, the heir left the chief and returned to the main part of his village.

Taking a deep breath, Dagur knocked on the door. He heard some shuffling and Heather opened it, smiling and then was, visibly, disappointed to see him, "Oh, hi, Dagur. I thought that you'd be with Hiccup still." She looked past him, trying to find someone. Dagur rocked back and forth, slightly, "I have something that I've been meaning to tell you." Noticing her lack of focus, he stopped, "Is this a bad time?" "What?" she asked, not having heard him, "Oh, sorry. No, this is fine. I'm about to head out in a few minutes, but we can talk now." The chief pursed his lips, "If you're about to head out, maybe I should wait until your schedule's more open." Heather waved the idea away with her hand, "No, now you've made me curious. Plus, it's been three years and I owe you. What do you want to talk about?" She opened the door wider and motioned to a seat.

Heather's brow furrowed at seeing him limp over to the chair, "Hiccup's right. You need some first aid for that. Are you going to see Gothi?" Dagur laughed, making the other viking eye him, cautiously, "Just came back from that lady. Think I'll stick with the healers on Berserker Island. Got a few things up my own tunic too." Suddenly, turning serious, he began, "I've been wanting to talk to you about your parents." Heather's face dropped, "They died. We were so close to them getting better-thanks for your advice, by the way-but I suppose that too much of it was right. They stopped believing that they would be the same and that's when it all went downhill." Dagur rose from the seat and enclosed her hand in his, surprising her, "I am truly sorry for that, Heather. It's a terrible feeling to lose loved ones." he told her, sincerely.

Unaccostomed to someone not just telling her that everything would be all right, Heather pulled back and cleared her throat, "Was that all you wanted to tell me?" Dagu diverted his eyes from hers for a moment, "Actually **that **wasn't part of it at all. I want to talk to you about your **biological** parents." The young lady looked shocked, "What would you know about them?" she asked, suspiciously. "That horn that you have." Dagur began. "Yeah?" Heather pressed, unsure where that was going. "Stoick gave it to Oswald the Agreeable when his daughter was born. When **you** were born, Heather." Dagur said. The viking put her hands to hair, messing it up, "That's crazy." Anticipating the Berserker stepping closer, Heather put up a hand to stop him, "I don't believe you. Not for one second." Under her breath she mumbled, "Who's to say he didn't go extra insane in captivity?" Dagur still heard her, "Ask Stoick. He can confirm this." She looked at him, "Fine. I will. Get this settled, quickly."

Heather opened her door and brushed past Fishlegs, who was about to knock. Dagur followed her out and gave a sheepish smile to the Berkian. Going into the Great Hall, Heather found Stoick. He saw the distraught expression on her face, "Heather, what's wrong?" She went by Hiccup and handed Stoick the horn, "Do you recognize this?" He eyed it, carefully, "Where did you get this?" "My dad gave it to me. My first dad." Heather told him, stressing more with every passing second. Feeling, increasingly, impatient, she started, "Dagur said that you gave it to Oswald the Agreeable. **His** father. That's not true, though. Right?" Stoick looked at the horn, then at Heather, and finally Dagur, who had just entered. The Berkian chief stood from his throne and handed the horn back to her, "It is true, Heather. I gave this to Oswald for his newborn daughter." Heather turned ashen and faced Dagur, "Then...you're..my-" Rage, immediately, took over her shock and she glared at the Berserker.

"Good to finally meet someone from my birth family." she spat, spitefully, "I have some questions that have been bugging my for about **my entire life!**" she yelled, "Why is it that I **needed** a foster family? Was I unwanted? Seems unlikely that I'd be the kid that was left behind." Dagur swallowed, hard, "You weren't unwanted." he said, calmly, "You never got to live on Berserker Island because..." All these times, he had imagined telling her, but none of them had prepared him for what it would be like. It was harder to say this than he ever thought it could have been, "Because...I sent you adrift." It physically hurt him to tell her that, but he had always planned to. Absolute hurt was in Heather's and she raised her hands in the air, "Of course you did."

Heather began to storm out of the hall, but stopped and pivoted back around. The viking marched up to the Berserker until she was right in his face, "For these last three years, I've been wondering **why** you saved my life. Why you would do something so selfless. Do you know why? Because beyond whatever sick reason you had in your mind for doing that, I know that you don't have it in you to do something so unconditionally kind. I know that no one who kills their own father-for a title that they would have inherited anyway!-could care about **anyone** other than themselves. You ruined my life before I even knew what was happening. Maybe it was just Odin stepping in and making you help me for your own karma." Heather's voice was strained and her eyes were teary, "I don't want to ever see you again and if you come looking for me-" She drew her ax and put it to the viking's neck. Sheathing it once more, she left the building, pulling Fishlegs with her.

Heather's heated speech had garnered the other dragon riders to see what was wrong and an eerie silence had filled the hall. Dagur closed his eyes, momentarily, and straightened his back, "I appreciate you having let me rest here, but I believe that it's time for me to return to my island. Thank you for the accommodations." His throat burned more than if he had garggled with Fireworms and he tried to stay composed. Hiccup stepped forward, wanting to say something, but he had no idea what. "Dagur." was all he could muster. The chief bit his bottom lip to prevent it from quivering and he strode out of the building with all the confidence that he could manage. He waved goodbye to the other riders, but could not look them in the eyes, for then they would see his. Reaching his ship, he took a drink of fresh water, soothing his throat, mildly, and making it easier to stay dry-faced. "_You can hate me if you want to, Heather."_ he thought, setting his course for Berserker Island, "_Either way, I'll do whatever I can to make sure that you're okay. If you **ever** need me, I'll already be there with a plan ready."_


	19. Scars

Dagur steered the vessel forward, trying to keep his focus on navigating. Random objects seemed to jump out at him, nearly causing crashes, only for the viking to realize that nothing was there. Full of relief, Berserker Island came into his sights and he pulled into the harbor, hands raised, peacefully. "Who are you, stranger?" Vorg questioned, aiming a crossbow at the viking. "Now, Vorg. You wouldn't want to shoot your own chief, would do?" Dagur inquired, a smug smile crossing his face. The captain's eyes widened, but he kept the weapon raised, "How do we know it's you? Someone could have told you my name." The chief nodded, thoughtfully, "That **is **true; however, it seems doubtful that anyone else would know that you are one of the best swimmers on the island. Still remember when I, accidentally, knocked you overboard." An ornery laugh emitted from the young man and Vorg's face was that of complete shock, "Dagur?" he said, disbelievingly, then growing into a wide smile, "Lower your weapons, men! Our chief has returned."

Expressions of surprise went through the Berserkers, followed by cheers. "We never thought that we'd see you again, Sir. Everyone thought that you were dead." Dagur raised his brow, "'Dead'? Me? Never." He disembarked off the ship and the captain eyed him more closely, "Dead no, but injured. Are you going to see the healers?" Dagur brushed past him, "I've already seen one on Berk. Didn't tell me anything that I didn't know prior. What I'm doing **now** is seeing Bluebolt." Vorg knew that nothing else he would say would be listened to and stepped aside. Dagur made his way to the stables and saw the Skrill, laying down, depressed. Upon sensing the Berserker, Bluebolt opened his eyes and flew over to him, scooping him onto his back and flying upwards. Dagur laughed, happily, at the thrill as they did a flip and landed back on the ground. Bluebolt snuggled against him with his head and Dagur put his forehead to the dragon's. A sudden sadness overtook his joy and he pulled away from the Skrill, hurt in his eyes. Bluebolt lowered his head, regretfully, and the chief blinked away the emotion.

"You've kept the others safe, I'll bet. How'd they manage without me?" Dagur inquired. The Skrill made a little noise of confirmation and Dagur gave him one last pet before heading down into tbe village. After everything that had occurred, he wanted to see his old hut again. Along the way, he looked at his Berserkers and was content that they had been safe. The chief had been concerned that they would have been laid siege to during his absence. He was grateful that the gods had granted them a safe existence for their weakest time. Something that he did not appreciate, though, was the way that they regarded him. It was an odd mix of pity, concern, and caution. There might have been more, however that was all he could see. The sun had started to go down and his sight was becoming clearer with each incoming shadow, but it was not ready quite yet. "_Great. I'm nocturnal now."_ he thought, bitterly. His hut was a few yards in front of him and his heart beat quickened with excitement. Just before he reached the door, an unwelcomed voice called out to him.

"Well, if it ain't Dagur the Dainty. Back from the dead, it seems. Guess, I'll have to pray harder next time." Ansson stated, instigatingly. Dagur turned to look at the viking and his eyes widened at the sight of him. No longer was he a threatening man, muscular and towering. Over the three years, his limbs had become skinny. Not his torso, though, which looked, oddly, large for his new frame. Dagur noticed another tattoo on the Berserker's left arm this time, "A Scauldron tattoo?" Ansson's face held confusion, "A what? I don't have time for yer lunatic jargon, Dainty. **This **is a Thunderfish." Dagur rolled his eyes, "Idiot." he mumbled, "The new subject of your obsession, I'm guessing?" Ansson nodded, "I've been trying to capture it for the last three years. Got boring around here without having my favorite little target." He smirked, creepily, at the viking. Dagur looked at him, disgusted, "You gotta stop tattooing your hobbies onto yourself. It's kind of a creepy habit." The chief put his hand on the door.

"Whoever had ya captured makes me look like I didn't use to do a good job on ya. Never seen you look worse. Just ashamed that I'm not the reason." Ansson feigned hurt. Dagur frowned, "And **you're **really one to talk about new looks?" he questioned. The older viking did not catch his drift very well, but was undeterred. Eying the chief up and down, he, visually, scanned him, "Ya can't a thing, can ya? All ya can tell is that there're blobs and some of 'em talk." Ansson laughed, cruelly, "Would've been something, you bein' this way, back when you were a kid." Dagur's frown turned into a glare and he, subtly, looked for an ax. Mentally, he cursed at not being able to see if one were nearby or not. "_Maybe I'll just break his skull." _he pondered. Ansson left, striding off, arrogantly, before Dagur could attack him and the chief grunted. "_Fine. There'll be another time._" he figured and opened the door to his hut. He walked inside and slumped into a chair, painfully.

The hut felt more empty than ever before and ominous as well. A chill went down his spine as Dagur thought that he had seen a figure moving. The Berserker put his face in his hands, _"When is that going to wear off?"_ he wondered, miserably. Exhaustion was finally beginning to rear its unforgiving head and Dagur made his way to his old room to get ready for slumber. Dust coated everything in a blanket and he frowned at having something else to do prior to sleeping. After a thurough cleaning, the room was, once again, habitable and he climbed into the bed. The soft covers, the quiet room, they were welcomed changes to what he had been subject to. Almost as soon as his head touched the pillow, he was out like a lamp. It had been three years since he had genuinely gotten any sleep and he was going to make the most of it that night.

Just as Dagur had fallen into deep slumber, two hands yanked him upwards and one grabbed his neck. Through the darkness, he saw Alvin and Ryker in his room, both giving death glares. "Ya ruined my deal, boy." the Outcast said, choking the Berserker. Dagur went to remove the hand and realized that he was chained up again, _"No." _he thought, in a panic. "Now, Ryker here'll get ya back." Alvin informed. The hunter smirked behind him and drew his sword, "And I **will** restart our visits. Looks like that leg's healing up." he sucked his teeth, "Can't have that." With a swipe of his blade, it dug into Dagur's knee again. The Berserker let out a strained yell and the two cackled. "Don't worry. Ryker won't get ya quite yet. First **I'll **deal with ya. Never got to finish our week together." the Outcast stated. A punch knocked the remaining air in Dagur's lungs out and his squeezed windpipe kept him from replinishing what was lost.

"What do you have to say to that?" Alvin inquired. The Berserker clenched his teeth and glared at the Outcast, "Die." he hissed. The Outcast's ax cut the side of his head, letting blood flow down his face. "Aw, you're makin' me feel like ya don't want to be around me, Dagur. Ya'll grow to like me plenty." An evil twinkle glimmered in the man's eyes, "Or, maybe **you** and I don't have to do this at all." Dagur eyed him, cautiously and Alvin continued, "That sister of yours-" Pure, unmitigated rage filled Dagur and he moved his arms forward, breaking the chains-to his, subconscious, surprise. He knocked the ax out of Alvin's hand and dug it into his chest, "**No one** touches my sister!" he roared. He began to hack the ax into the Outcast, but Alvin only laughed, "Ya can't stop me." Ryker faded into nothingness and Dagur was left feeling lost, "Another hallucination?" he wondered, aloud. "Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, it's over, ain't it?" Alvin stated, a blade appeared in his hands and he moved it to slit Dagur's throat.

The Berserker jolted awake, shaking. He looked around the room and when he saw nothing, he ran an icy hand over his face. Dagur panted and his breathing was labored due to his prior injury. He clutched at his ribs, wishing that he had not been slashed. His knee burned like fire as well and it hurt as he paced in a circle. As much as his body begged him to lay back down, he could not. He rushed to the washroom and then limped around Berserker Island. He had a question that he wanted answered, however no one was up for him to ask. Voices rang in the young man's ears. Threats and cruel promises. They were booming and yet, eerily, quiet. Illusions of hunters and Outcasts followed Dagur everywhere he moved. "Leave me alone!" he yelled, throwing a knife into the head of Ryker. It went through the hunter and landed in a tree's trunk. A thought passed through Dagur's mind as he looked to where the stables were, "_A little lightning strike would be nice."_ He, quickly, shook his head to shake the idea away, "_That wouldn't help anything. I just have to wait until somebody gets up and I'll do what I have to do."_

Dagur spent the rest of the night sharpening his knife, waiting to hear the first pitter patter of Berserker feet. As soon as he did, he exited the hut-practically hissing from the sunlight-and went over to Captain Vorg, "I have a question for you." The Berserker stopped, "Aye, Sir?" The chief's gaze was deadly, but not intended that way for the captain, "Do you know where Alvin is now? Back on his island?" Vorg shook his head, "Far from, Dagur. He's in our prison. Took him captive just after we lost you." Dagur's gaze softedned, "You did?" he inquired, touched. "Of course. Only have fed him enough to keep him alive, so that he could stay in his cell forever." The chief perked up, "Then, I think, he'll have a visitor today." His expression was unreadable, but there was a slight something in his eyes that disturbed the older Berserker, "What are you planning?" Dagur began to walk to the jail, "I'm not **planning** anything. Already've done that. Right now, I'm **executing**." he laughed, derangedly.

The cells were on the far end of the island, that way fewer civilians would get hurt in any possible breakout. The walk felt endless and with each painful step, Dagur felt butterflies in his stomach from anticipation. An object appeared near him and he blinked hard, trying to clear his head, "Stop showing up out of nowhere." he stated, annoyed, and swatted at the form. When he felt his hand make contact, his eyes widened and the chief squinted to see what was near him. "What are you talking about?" Hiccup asked. Dagur held near the sides of his eyes for a moment, "Sorry, I was just...what can I do ya for?" he inquired, brightening. Hiccup observed him, susipciously, "Just wanted to make sure that you were all right." The chief gave a smile, "Great. Feeling even better now that you're here. I have a question-or favor, moreso-to ask of you." Hiccup walked with the Berserker, "What is it?"

"Well, like I mentioned, there are dragon hunters outside the archipelago. Figured that I could track them down and stop them. You could help too if you want, but, mainly, I want another dragon." Dagur stated. Hiccup stopped moving forward, "Why?" Dagur halted as well, "Because they're faster and more stealthy than ships and I can't fly on Bluebolt **and** fire at targets." The Berkian frowned, faintly, "What kind of stuff would happen after you track them down?" Dagur shrugged, "Not like I can see the future, Brother. Will you help me?" Hiccup bit his lip, "I've been pretty busy, lately. I'll..have to see about that." The chief's look turned cold, "All right. Just let me know what you decide." he replied, politely, "I'm busy right now too, actually, so I'll have to talk you in a bit." Dagur continued on his way and Hiccup started again after him, "Where are you going? Those are the prisons up there." The Berserker scoffed, "Don't have to give me the blueprints to my own island, H."

The heir was not finished, "But, **why** are you going there?" Dagur patted Hiccup's shoulder, "Don't worry about stuff that doesn't involve you." Before the Berserker could move his hand, Hiccup grabbed it to stop him. Instinctively, anger flashed in Dagur's eyes and the hand balled itself into a fist. The Berkian, hastily, released the chief and Dagur looked away. "Were you about to punch me?" Hiccup asked, shocked. The chief kept his eyes diverted from the younger viking's, "I'd never do that." he replied, quietly. Hiccup studied him, "You're going into that prison to see Alvin, aren't you?" Dagur pursed his lips, "We have some unfinished business." Hiccup's brows furrowed, "What kind? Revenge?" The Berserker felt his face twitch, "What else?" he snapped. His friend stood his ground, "This won't make you feel better, Dagur. He's a prisoner. You can't attack him. Torture, death, they aren't the answers." Dagur rolled his eyes, "Too noble for such atrocious acts, Hiccup? I don't care what's moral. Alvin is going to pay."

Hiccup regarded the Berserker sadly, "Does he deserve to be treated that way? He's still a living being." Dagur laughed, scornfully, "Does he deserve it? More than anyone else I know. Though, there **are** some close seconds-which is why I need that new dragon." The Berkian's face was morose, "What did he do? What did the hunters do? Why are you so angry right now?" Dagur kept his eyes on anything but the other viking, "I'm not going into that. Now, please move." Hiccup moved to block his way, "I won't let you succumb to their level. If you want to go down that road, you'll have to do it all the way." Dagur stared at him, confused, "What are you talking about?" The Berkian straightened his back, "You'll have to be willing to do anything for revenge. Even hurt me." Dagur's eyes widened and he glared at the heir, "Move." he ordered. Hiccup stepped in front of him no matter where he went. Dagur let out an angry roar, "**Move!**" The Berkian cringed, moderately, at the rage, but did not budge.

Rapidly pacing, Dagur's gaze shot knives at the Berkian, "Are you going to help me with a dragon? That's my proposition. Take it or leave it." Hiccup sighed, "Fine. I'll help." Dagur, immediately, grinned, "Great! Al should thank you. Come on, let's go back to the village." He wrapped his arm around Hiccup's shoulder, leading him back into town. When he was certain that the older man would not lash out, Hiccup spoke, "I have another question for you." Dagur side-eyed him, "What is it?" "About Heather. I was wondering why you said that you sent her adrift." The Berserker kept his focus forward, "Because I did. What more do you want to know?" Hiccup stopped, "I don't believe that. You're too protective to try to hurt your own sister, so why did you lie?" Dagur was silent for a few moments, "I didn't lie. I **did **send her adrift, so stop being so inquisitive." Hiccup frowned, "There's more to it than that. **Why** did you do it then?" Dagur laughed, "Why do I do a lot of things? Just leave it, will you?" Hiccup frowned, but complied for the time being.

Hiccup soon left to return to Berk-with the promise that he and Dagur would meet up on Dragon Island the next day to start their dragon training-and Dagur watched him fly away. The chief had felt, almost, lightheaded for an hour or so and he, finally, went back to his hut. More images flashed in his mind and eyes as he made his way. "_I don't have time for this_. _Go away_." he thought, helplessly. Dagur's head throbbed with memories that pleaded to be rehashed. Memories of one fateful day that changed the lives of his family members and not for the better. His freatest efforts were no match for his vivid memory and they flooded in like a broken dam, nearly, drowning him.

_Dagur's mom had been dead from an attack for a week and Oswald's work had more than tripled. He was exhausted and could not bring Heather around with him into the village. He had errands that needed to be run and some that he could not do alone. Dagur was trying help as much as he could, make meals, grab items from the trading post, things like that. Unfortunately, he was a very young child and he could not do it all. Oswald dealt with the chiefing matters and Dagur dealt with the behind-the-scenes matters. Whenever Heather would cry, could not sleep, or hurt herself, he would take care of that. A song, silly faces, a little game that seemed idiotic to his father, and first aid, these were the things that he would do. One day, Oswald had an awful headache, "Go to the trading lost and get me some ice blocks, Dagur. I can't stand your noise anymore. It's making my head pound." Slightly, hurt, the boy nodded and started for the door. "Take Heather with you. Her laughing has begun to sound like yours."_

_A smile lit up the little boy's face as he scooped up the little girl, "I can show you the post. You'll love it, Sis. There are a bunch of cool weapons over there." "**Quietly**, Dagur. I thought that I had been clear about that." Oswald complained. The boy frowned and he left the hut. The siblings went down and Dagur purchased some ice blocks, "Thanks." he stated, grinning. Heather poked at the ice and her brows furrowed at how cold it was. Dagur chuckled, "Yep, only good if you're hot or achey. Lucky you didn't learn it the hard way." They were making their way back to their hut_ _when an imposing figure blocked their way. Dagur held the baby viking closer to him, protectively, "Go away, Ansson." he said. The man eyed him up and down, "Didn't your parents teach you manners? Have anything special for me? Just see ice." He started to march over to the boy, who backed away. "No, I don't." Dagur responded, firmly, "Even **you** don't care about ice." Ansson glared, "Right about that." He smiled, cruelly, "I see more than that, though."_

_Dagur kept backing away from the older Berserker and started to run before he could. Ansson tackled him and pinned him to the ground. Dagur had to move Heather in a way so that she would not be hurt and Ansson snatched up the child. "Don't touch her!" the boy yelled, furiously. He tried to push the man off of him and started to. Ansson's eyes gaped as he noticed the boy's strength. He flung the child aside and Dagur knocked him off, running to catch his sister. Heather was in shock, but unharmed. Tension filled Dagur's body as he heard the slick sound of a blade being drawn, "Hold still." Ansson ordered. He walked over to the children and pointed the blade at Heather. The Berserker heir was overcome with rage, but he would do nothing that might endanger his sister, "You don't have anything against her, Ansson. Leave her alone." The elder Berserker smirked, "She's your sister, isn't she? I have **that** against her." Dagur's heart beated out of his chest, "There's gotta be something that you want in place of hurting her."_

_Ansson was pensive, "Beg."_ _he stated. Daur bit his lip and went down onto his knees, "Please don't hurt her. Whatever you were going to do, just do it to me. I can take it." Ansson twirled his knife, thoughtfully. "**Please**." Dagur pressed, "I won't even fight back. Just hand her back to me first." The man frowned, "And how do I know, you won't just run?" The boy regarded him, "You'd catch us anyway. Why put her at risk?" Realizing that he was correct, Ansson handed the child back to her brother and Dagur nuzzled his head against her, "It's going to take a little longer getting back home, but we'll get there, I promise."__ He cooed and set her down on a crate behind some bushes, so that she could not see what was about to happen._ _The boy returned to Ansson and the viking slapped his face, leaving a stinging sensation. Next, a punch was sent into his gut, reeling him over, and Ansson kicked in the back. He bodyslammed Dagur and landed on him, crushing the boy and sending various punches into his body._

_While Heather could see nothing, she heard the grunts of pain from her big brother and waled. Dagur hated for her to cry, but there was nothing that he could do. His body went rigid as he felt Ansson's blade cut down his back. He was flipped back around and Ansson grabbed his jaw, "Open." Reluctantly, the boy complied and the blade was placed in his mouth, "Ya talk a lot. I don't like it." Ansson tapped his tongue with the knife, tauntingly, and cut just under the boy's throat. He yanked some hair out of the boy's head and pushed him back into the dirt. Ansson scraped his face against the ground and snarled at Dagur. With a devilish grin, he executed a kick that hit the boy between the legs, dropping him. "You're pathetic. Take all this just because ya love yer widdle sista. No one will ever respect ya, Dainty. **Never**." Ansson started to walk away, but balked, "Since the novelty will be gone next time, don't count the little brat as safe." He left, leaving the boy to try to breathe through the pain._

_When he was well-enough to get up, Dagur went over to Heather, who was still crying, "Shush, it's all right. Let's get back." He grabbed the bag of half melted ice blocks in one hand and Heather in the other. They entered the hut and Oswald picked up Heather, "Are you all right, Babygirl?" he asked, worried. "She's okay." Dagur told him. Oswald paid him no heed and grabbed an ice block, "Rather melted, aren't they?" he noted, frowning at the boy. Dagur was appalled, "Kind of had a detour!" he stated, upset. "Failure is failure." his father told him. Dagur blinked the expression away from his face and crossed his arms, "Well, here's a reason fo you to finally stop Ansson. He threatened Heather." Oswald scoffed, "Nonsense, Dagur. Why would he do such a thing? Heather is lovely." The chief placed the young girl down in her cradle and Dagur stared at him, mouth ajar._

_Dagur went to his room and paced back and forth. _"I can't let Heather stay and get hurt." _he mused. A terrible thought went through his brain, but he could think of no other solution. The boy snuck over to the main room where Heather was, grabbed her blanket, a few toys, and a horn-just so that he could know it was her, should they reunite. Carrying all these things, he brought them outside and put the belongings in a little boat that he had fixed some time before. Done, he turned to his sister, a lump forming in his throat. He lifted her and gave her a kiss on the cheek, "I love you, Heather. Please never forget that." he pleaded. She did not seem to understand what was going on, but smiled at him, brightly. Singing a quiet melody through a cracking voice, he placed her in the boat and pushed it far into the sea. "Stay safe, Sis."_

_Miserably, Dagur returned to his hut and went to his room. He could get no sleep, but an hour later, his door was flung wide open, frightening the boy. "**Where. Is. My** **c****hild**?" Oswald boomed. He stormed over to the bed and grabbed Dagur by the braid, yanking him out, "What did you do to her?!" The boy fought to keep a tremor down and gulped, "She's on a boat in the sea. That way, she can't be hurt. She'll be safe." Oswald let go of him and stumbled backwards, like he had been stabbed in his heart. He even grabbed at his chest and turned to face a wall, "Can I have no family, Odin? You took my wife and now, my daughter." To Dagur, he spoke louder, "You little demon, she was safe here with **me**. Who is to say how she will survive? She could die out there and that is because of you." He slumped agains the wall, tears welling up, "My babygirl." The chief covered his face with his hands and bawled. Dagur looked with horror and regret at what he had invoked._

_"I never wanted to hurt you, Dad. Only save Heather." the boy choked out, tears filling his own eyes, "I'm sorry!" Oswald stopped crying and rose to a standing position, going over Dagur. He began to back the boy into a wall, "Yes, you **are** sorry." The man's fists balled and Dagur started to tremble, "You are, also, psychotic, maniacal, stupid, cruel, and hateful. Acts of undiluted evil would seem pleasurable to you. Acts of such a cruelty like making me lose the only child I've ever loved!" The chief threw a punch across the boy's face, knocking him down to the floor. The man was stronger than Ansson and the force-coupled by who had given it-made the hit hurt more than any other had. Oswald lifted his foot to kick him in the head and Dagur covered his head with his arms, protectively.__ When no attack came, Dagur saw Oswald's leg shaking midair. Abruptly, the chief rushed out of the house and the boy curled into a tight ball._

_Unbeknownst to Dagur, Oswald_ _had gone to Ansson's hut and pounded on the door. Sleepily, Ansson answered, "Yes, Chief?__"_ _ The Berserker barged into the home, "I need you to do something for me." "Aye?" Ansson pressed. Oswald was pacing back and forth, quite ansy, "Make Dagur's life a living nightmare. I don't care **what **you do as long as it's against him. Make him pay for losing my baby." Ansson nodded and that was when things really began to get rough for the boy. Of course, Dagur did not know of this and could only recall tears that wanted to flow, freely, but were not allowed passage._

Even all those years later, he felt similar emotions. Pain that had never ended; wounds that had never healed. His spirit longed to cry and hug someone, but his willpower did not. Pushing the memories back into the far corners of his mind, Dagur rose from the ground, shakily, and went to check on his Berserkers. It had been a while since he had been a chief and needed to get as much done before he had to venture out, purposely, this time.


	20. Taking Care of Business

Hiccup arrived in Berk and went into his hut, trying to distract his thoughts by focusing on the Dragon Eye. He frowned at the item and stared, hard. "_This indentation reminds me of **something**. I can't place my finger on it._" he thought. The Berkian showed it to Toothless, "Does this look like we **just** saw it?" Toothless mimicked his friend's look, yet was unable to recall either. Stoick entered the home and greeted his son. He noticed the steam that was beginning to emit from the viking's head, "Something on your mind, Son?" Hiccup stopped, "Yeah, this Dragon Eye." From his peripheral vision, he saw his father's disblieving stare and sighed, "I'm thinking about Dagur too." he admitted. The Berkian chief smiled, "**There** we are. Well, what about?" Hiccup turned to face him, "I promised that I'd help him train another dragon tomorrow." Stoick's brow rose, "Why another?" His son rubbed his temples, "Because he can't track down and kill every viking that he wants to with the Skrill. He wants to be up close and personal and knows that Bluebolt's blast would just electrocute him too."

Stoick shrugged and chuckled, "Observant of him. Can't say that I see the issue. If you don't want to do that, why'd you agree?" Hiccup leaned his arms on his desk, "I only did because he gave me an ultimatum. It was either help him kill more people, slowly, or let him go and torture Alvin." The chief frowned, "He was going to torture him?" Hiccup nodded, "That's what I'm dealing with now. And who knows what he'll do to the hunters after he finds them?" he sighed, heavily, "He wasn't like this before. He's changed, Dad." Stoick was silent for a moment, "That's not surprising, Hiccup. He has always been a, naturally, violent viking. Being at the mercy of Alvin and whoever those other people were would **have** to change you, if only slightly." The heir ran a hand through his hair, "He's unstable, vindictive-" "Dagur." Stoick finished, "I'm not hearing anything new." Hiccup shook his head, "You didn't see him. He's worse than he's ever been. Like some type of, adolescent, wild dragon that's just waiting to get his first kill."

Saying that reminded the Berkian of something and he shuddered, "Except he's already killed plenty. He took down an entire shipload of hunters. Even kept two bodies to use for setting off booby traps." A trace of disgust could be seen on Stoick's face as his son spoke of what had occurred. Hiccup glanced at him, sadly, "How do I change him back?" His father leaned back in his chair, "You can't." he said, bluntly. The younger viking blinked, "Well, that's not what I expected you to say." he divulged. "It's the truth, Son. He'll never, truly, be the same. What you **can** do is be there for him. If something happened to Fishlegs, he'd want a comforting hug and to talk to someone. For the twins, they'd destroy something in an odd and creative way. Do you understand what I'm getting at?" Hiccup rubbed the back of his neck, "Not really." Stoick rose from his chair and patted the viking on his shoulder, "Everyone deals with trauma differently. Being a good friend means that you can figure out what someone needs and try to either provide that or step back so that it can happen."

Hiccup appreciated the advice that his father had given, but did not know how to implement it. Dagur would not just open up about what happened, so that they could talk it through. What the Berserker chief thought that he needed was revenge and Hiccup could not allow that. Vengeance was never the way, so he had to find another. _"There's one dragon that I can train him to ride, and he won't be able to track down very many people with it."_ Hiccup thought. The next day, he and Toothless flew to Dragon Island to begin the training. Dagur was already there, waiting. That morning, he had tried to scarf down yak legs, burly cakes, and water, but his lack of food had messed with his metabolism and his hunger was no longer the same. Bitterly, he stood against a tree, "_I guess that seven o' clock was more **eight** than I had thought he said."_ he thought and uncrossed his arms/removed the, impatient, scowl from his face as Hiccup approached, "Hey, Brother. Ready to start?" he inquired. Hiccup forced a smile, "Yep, are you?" Dagur fought hard to not roll his eyes, "_Yeah," _he thought,_ "have been for over an hour."_

Outwardly, the Berserker nodded, "Sure am. Even thought of a name. Shattermaster. What do you think?" The Berkian kind of shrugged, "Sounds...destructive. Are you sure that you can't track the hunters down with Bluebolt?" Dagur glanced at him, "Yes, I am. Even looking past the fact that he wouldn't be able to blast without getting me too, he needs to stay on the island to protect everyone." "Exactly." Hiccup stated, "Stay on the island. Dagur, don't you want to just be home for a while? You've been gone for three yea-" "**If anyone knows that, it's-**" Dagur started, and closed his eyes, saying a low chant, "Let not the rage consume you. Breathe and be one with peace." Curiousity was clear in Hiccup's face, but as was the fact that Dagur was not going to divulge what that was about. "So, do I just go find some dragon and then you make sure it doesn't want to kill me?" the chief asked. Hiccup led him into the forest, "Not exactly. I've picked one out for you already." Dagur was not sure if he should have been thankful for the consideration or annoyed at his options being taken from him, "Okay."

The vikings and Night Fury stopped and Hiccup called for a dragon to emerge. Dagur, excitedly, waited, "What kind is it? Lethal, I hope. It'll have to be for what we're going to do." The rustling of bushes stopped as a Gronckle leapt from them, making Dagur's face fall to the grass. He turned to see Hiccup, "Why's this dragon here?" "Because," the Berkian started, "this is Shattermaster." Dagur stared back and forth between the dragon and Hiccup, "You're giving me a Gronckle?" he asked, disappointment and a slight hurt audible in his voice. "They're easy to train and even easier to ride." Hiccup defended. The chief frowned, "I don't need a starter dragon. I need a death machine." The dragon was unaffected and just kept on wagging his tail, happily at the Berserker. "_His enthusiam is kind of cute, though."_ he thought. "Just give him a try, Dagur. Gronckles **are** really tough dragons." Hiccup told. A light lit up in the Berserker's eyes, "Really?" he eyed the reptile, "Well, maybe I'll give it a shot."

Dagur reached to extend his hand to the Gronckle and it ran away. The Berserker observed in shock and started to chase the dragon. "Dagur, wait!" Hiccup called after him. The, painful, throbbing in the chief's knee made him listen, "Why did he run?" he inquired, sounding almost offended. "Some dragons are just ornery like that. We have to approach him, calmly, and maybe he'll be willing to come back." The Berkian stated. Dagur grumbled some, under his breath, and followed Hiccup to go retrieve the renegade, reptile. He was not difficult to track and was wagging his tail at them. The younger viking walked over to him and extended his hand, which Shattermaster accepted. Hiccup motioned for Dagur to come over and the Berserker did, replacing the Berkian's hand with his own. Carefully, he mounted Shattermaster and patted his head, "Feel like going for a flight?" The dragon ascended, gradually, and flew over the forest's trees.

Hiccup and Toothless trailed beside the duo as Dagur inspected Shattermaster, "Definitely slower than Bluebolt, although that **is** a thick tail. Bet you could do some damage with that, huh boy?" The chief looked around and spotted a large boulder, "Want to try it out?" The two landed near the rock and Dagur descended to check it's density. "What are you doing?" Hiccup questioned, finding it odd that his friend had suddenly begun to knock on boulders. "I'm going to see if Shattermaster can destroy this. If he can, that'll be a move to use when we attack ships." Dagur divulged. The Berserker turned his attention to the Gronckle, "Now, you'll have to gain some momentum. Maybe try charging. Afterwards, spin so that your tail is facing it. Got that?" Shattermaster examined the object and ran a few yards away. The Berkian and Night Fury moved back, so as to not get trampled in the exercise and were surprised to see the success that occurred.

"It actually worked." Hiccup commented, dumbfounded. "Of course it did." Dagur said, puffing up, proudly. He patted the dragon's head, "Good job. Let's see what else you can do." The two spent some time finding various moves that became more and more lethal and destructive. During this time, Hiccup decided that he was not, necessarily, needed and took out the Dragon Eye to try to ring that bell for his memory. Dagur and Shattermaster found him and approached, smiling, "Gotta hand it to you, H. Shattermaster, here, was a good pick. Thanks." the Berserker beamed. Hiccup did not hear him, due to his focus being diverted. "Not as cool of an artifact as you hoped it'd be?" Dagur asked, speaking, slightly, louder to get a reply. The Berkian peeked up, "Hm? Oh, yeah, kind of. This mark looks familiar, but I can't remember where I've seen it." he gestured to the item. Dagur eyed it, "On Gothi's arm." he answered. Hiccup glanced at him, confused, "Gothi's arm?" His friend smirked, "Don't recall walking into a cave for an echo. Yeah, Gothi had a scar on her arm that matches this, weird, thingy."

A lamp lit in Hiccup's mind, "You're right! That might mean that she knows something about it. Do you think that you're good for today and I can head back?" Dagur motioned to the sea, "I wouldn't dream of keeping you from dragon info, Brother. Thanks for coming out here in the first place. Let me know what you find out, though." Hiccup gave a nod and zipped off to Berk with Toothless. Dagur watched them leave and got back on Shattermaster, "Time to head home for some supplies, big boy." The pair flew to Berserker Island and the chief brought the dragon up to the stables, "There's someone that I want you to meet." They entered the area and Dagur called the Skrill over to them, "Bluebolt, meet Shattermaster and vice versa." The reptiles sniffed at each other and wiggled in friendly manners, "Glad that you two are getting along." Dagur grinned, "You'll both help out in different ways. Shattermaster'll go with me to take out the hunters and you, Bluebolt, will stay here to keep on protecting my Berserkers while I'm gone."

The dragons had understanding looks in their eyes and Dagur left to go to his hut. Walking over to a table, he grabbed the maps that he had taken from the hunter ship. The chief looked them over and placed them in a bag for him to bring on his journey. In said bag, Dagur took some water, food, small rocks for Shattermaster, and a few other items. He exited the building and saw vikings going around, contently. For a moment, he yearned for the comfort of staying and leading his people. "_Look at them. So happy, but they need a leader. They need me to be here. It's been enough time already."_ Just as quickly as it came, it left and he glowered, "_They don't need me. Didn't for three, consecutive, years. Another full one won't even pass before I get back. Plus, those vikings need to be stopped, so that they don't go after any more, poor, souls."_

Carrying the bag on his shoulder, Dagur went back to the stables and waved goodbye to Bluebolt, "We'll see you soon, buddy. Come on, Shattermaster." The Berserker and Gronckle flew from the island, heading South. Along the way, Dagur kept twirling a blade, just waiting to dig it into a hunter's flesh. They flew into the night as the chief's eyes felt stronger. He viewed an oddly shaped cliff on an island and felt excitement manifest in his spirit. "That's the last landmark, Shattermaster. We're close." Within a few minutes, a port came into view as well as a vessel. Dagur pointed towards it and they swooped down, hiding themselves amongst rocks and hills. On the deck of the ship, several hunters were jabbing caged dragons with their weapons. Shattermaster growled at the sight. "Disgusting, isn't it?" Dagur whispered. He saw a few barrels near the hunters, "See those? Only oils get stored in those types of barrels. Blast them and we'll have explosions that rival Hideous Zipplebacks'."

Before anyone could notice, the dragon-viking duo flew over and shot the cage doors. This melted the locks off and opened the pins for the captives to fly away. "What the-" a hunter began. When he raised his bow to shoot at the pair, Dagur sent a blade into his forehead, giggling. "_I still got it."_ he thought, happily. Shattermaster flew upwards and hit the barrels with lava. A detonation commenced and screams of hunters resonated like music in Dagur's ears. Sighing, dreamily, he looked at one viking that kept running back and forth, unsure if it were better to try to avoid debris and jump off the ship or to await his fate. "Should we end his suffering?" the chief asked Shattermaster. A, grim, smile spread across his face, "**Nope**." His laugh rose over the crackles of flames as he watched the vikings meet their demises.

When almost all of the hunters had died, Dagur and Shattermaster grabbed one that was still alive. The viking yelped as he was dangled over the fire, "Tell me everything you know about Viggo." Dagur ordered. The hunter scowled and said nothing. The Berserker shook him above the flame, "They can't hurt you. **I ****can**. I'll state this one more time. Tell me what you know about the hunters." Again, the viking held firm and was, subsequently, dropped, plunging down into the inferno. Dagur sucked his teeth, "Too bad. Hopefully, someone else will be more helpful. Let's find out." The two zipped off to the next location. It was quite far-a few days journey, at least-and the pair had to stop again, so that Shattermaster would not tire out. Going by a land mass, Dagur spoke, "How about we land there for the night. That way, you can rest." The Gronckle was more than willing to comply and planted himself near a pile of rocks, starting to eat.

Dagur cut some tree branches and tall grass, weaving and intertwining them together to form a shelter. He gathered some rocks and was about to start a fire when he recalled Shattermaster. Grinning, he gestured to the soon-to-be firepit, "Would you do the honors?" Shattermaster spewed a stream of lava over the stones and Dagur thanked him. Soon, the dragon had fallen asleep and left Dagur to his own thoughts. Envy tickled at the edges of his brain as he saw his new friend sleeping, soundly, "_I miss that feeling."_ he mused, unhappily. He stroked his, scraggly, beard, _"Maybe a couple of winks would be **just** long enough to get some good rest. A dreamless night would be great."_ Dagur wrapped up in some blankets that he had brought and doved off.

Hiccup and Toothless were flying over Berk, practicing new moves along with the other riders and Stoick watched them, peacefully, as he and Gobber spoke of village matters. Abruptly, the sun was clouded over, but with wild dragons. These were not the agreeable type and fired at the vikings. Hunter ships pulled up to Berk's harbor and fired catapults and chains at, unsuspecting, people. Gobber was taken down by a boulder and a chain wrapped itself around Stoick's neck, strangling him. Huts were lit aflame and carnage was the only word to describe the scene. Trying to see what all the screams were for, Heather ran out of her hut and, narrowly, missed being killed. A hidden figure laughed at his victory, "I've fooled you all!" he yelled, triumphantly. One by one, the dragon riders were picked off and with one fatal swoop, both Hiccup and Heather were shot with poisonous arrows to their hearts.

Dagur jerked upright and sweat beads dripped from his face. Only an hour, at most, had gone by, but sleep was no longer an option. He hated himself for being forgetful, "_How did I not remember that?!"_ The viking nudged Shattermaster, "You have to wake up." he said, dumping some water onto the fire to put it out, "We need to go to Berk and tell Hiccup about the traitorous, trader among them!" Shakily, but speedily, the Berserker chief climbed onto Shattermaster's back and they zipped off towards the island. "I just hope that we're not too late."


	21. Aiding

Dagur and Shatternaster landed on Berk's shore and the viking felt the tension in his chest release as he saw that the island's inhabitants were still unharmed. The chief patted his Gronckle's head, "Thanks, buddy. You've been a really good boy." he commended. Dagur looked around for one of the dragon riders, Stoick, or Gobber. _"G__uess, I'll head to the Great Hall."_ he figured. The Berserker started walking towards the building and saw Fishlegs walking in a sort of odd way. Raising a brow, he went over to the viking, "Hey, Fishy, do you know where the others are? There's something that I need to tell you all." The Berkian eyed him up and down, "Who is this 'Fishy'?" he questioned, in a weird voice. Dagur frowned at him, "Now's not the time for jokes. This is serious." The larger viking glared at the Berserker, "I do not **joke**. I am Thor Bonecrusher."

Dagur put his hand to his forehead, exasperated, "What are you talking about? You can't just go around claming to be Thor. That's a sure fired way to get shot full of lightning, pal." The Ingerman flicked his wrist at the chief, "We are not friends. I would never associate with such, pitiful, riff raff." The Berserker kept hurt from showing on his face and replaced it with anger. Dagur spotted Snotlout coming over with a selection of weapons, "I'm going to assume something is **very** wrong with Fishlegs, here, and that's why he's acting like this." Fishlegs was enraged at being called his name again and Snotlout tried to calm him down, "Thor, the poor viking doesn't know what he's saying." He used his index finger to form a circle over his temple, "He's not all there." the Jorgenson whispered. The confused viking showed realization on his expression, "Oh, it's clear now. A loon." Dagur boiled over with rage and looked at Snotlout, "Was I right or should I hold him responsible for his actions?" he questioned, through gritted teeth.

Snotlout hurried over to Dagur, "He got hypnotized and thinks that he's Thor Bonecrusher." he informed, quietly. The Berserker grunted, "Great. Do **you** know where Hiccup is? I need to tell him something. All of you, actually, but it looks like you'll be busy with 'Bonecrusher'." Just as Dagur said this, he saw Hiccup and rushed over, "Brother, I have some bad news for you." The heir prepared himself for the worst, "What is it?" Dagur's brows furrowed, "Whichever trader told you about the shipyard, he's a trai**tor**. He was in on it with the hunters-one of their allies even." Hiccup looked hesitant, "Are you sure? Trader Johann is the one that gave us the information." Dagur started to draw his ax, "Then, we go find him and run him through." The Berkian looked at his friend in horror, "Woah, woah. I never agreed to that. Listen, Johann's been a trusted merchant for Berk for longer than I even remember. Whatever they told you was probably a lie."

Dagur caressed the blade of his weapon, "Or, it was the truth and you're still being tricked. Let's say, I don't kill him and-I'm assuming-you don't either. From this point on, be wary of Johann. Don't do stuff like take food or follow his directions. Can you agree to that?" Hiccup bit his lip, "We'll see." "'We'll see'?!" Dagur echoed, angrily, "What about, 'this guy might be an undercover enemy' is so impossible to grasp?" Hiccup ignored the tone of voice and stayed calm, "I want to see for myself." Dagur stared at him for a moment, "You **have **seen for yourself. You all have and you haven't found anything suspicious." The Berkian sighed, heavily, "I have to deal with Fishlegs right now." His eyes lit up, "Hey, you could help me with him. Help us snap him out of it." Dagur made a face, "I care about Fishy, but doesn't Snotlip have it covered?" Hiccup commenced leading the Berserker back to where the other riders were, "It's Snotlout. Of course, he doesn't. Trust me, you can help more than you know."

Fishlegs was juggling yaks, to the amazement of the Berkian crowd, "And now, I must rid our fine seas of that dreaded Scauldron." he declared. With a large growl, Dagur glanced at Hiccup, "Fine, I'll help make sure he doesn't kill himself." The younger viking smiled, "Thanks." Watching the spectacle, sadly, sat Meatlug. Dagur saw her and gestured in her direction, "So, 'Bonecrusher', you don't want to be spending time with Meaty instead of killing a dragon?" The delusional viking stopped his juggling to scoff, "I wouldn't be caught in Valhalla with a Gronckle by my side. This island is plagued by them. Saw a green one today. Pathetic creature." he sneered. Dagur crossed his arms over his chest, "They're cool if you're creative." The other viking marched over to him, "Are you implying that I cannot utilize my weapons, properly?" A smug look crossed the Berserker's face, "Don't have to **imply** anything. You've proven that yourself."

Bonecrusher's hands balled into fists, "Bold speaking for a mere viking. Your wounds portray your mortality and that is something that Thor Bonecrusher does not need to concern himself with. I could take on an entire nest of dragons and emerge better than before." There could not have been a more entertaining show for Snotlout, who observed the two bantering. "You are not even a Berkian, but a king of fools for a lesser island." Snotlout "ooh"ed, goading his new hero on. If one were to look at Dagur's face, they would have thought that he was about to strangle the viking. His breath was quick and the chief began to take deeper ones, "Stay calm. Flow like the sea." he chanted, quietly. Bonecrusher stared, disturbed, "I do not have time for those with damaged brains. Shoo." He moved to shove the Berserker and Dagur grabbed his hand with deadliness in his eyes.

The two vikings locked eyes and Dagur could see as Fishlegs almost returned to the forefront of his own consciousness. The Ingerman whimpered and Dagur realized that the younger viking's hand was about to break. Being released, Bonecrusher snapped back, "How dare you grab me in such a harsh way, slime! After I protect these vikings from this dragon, I'll see what we can do about protecting them from **you**." Ruthlessness recommenced in Dagur and his snarled, "You better come back soon, Fishy. I wouldn't want you to suffer for what Bonecrusher's done." Again, the former personality almost resurfaced, but sunk back into the depths of the pretend Thor.

Bonecrusher stalked away and Dagur stormed over to the Great Hall, finding the chief and heir, "Hello, Stoick." he greeted, still trying to be considerate despite wanting to get to another point. "Hello, Dagur." the elder chief relied. The Berserker went to Hiccup and stopped, "Sorry, not sure how to fix him, but I know, **I** can't. He's too arrogant and aggressive. He'll get killed by **me **before that Scauldron gets him and he's our friend, so you see the issue with that." Hiccup eyed him, cautiously, "**You'd** kill him?" Dagur grunted, "No. I mean, that's why I'm leaving. Take this out on some hunters." he stated, walking towards the exit, "See ya, Stoick." he balked, "Did..Hiccup tell you anything that I had mentioned to him today?" The Berkian appeared confused, "Not that I can recall." Dagur glanced at Hiccup for a second, "Okay. Just wondering." With that, he left the building.

Stoick observed his son, "What did he mean by that, Hiccup?" The viking took a step towards the chief, "He said that the hunters told him, Johann isn't really our ally and is theirs instead. That he led us into a trap." Blinking, Stoick began, "Impossible. I've known him for years. He's the only viking, that isn't a Berkian, that I trust." he divulged, "But, Dagur **did** have an oppprtunity to hear a lot of things. We aren't mind readers. Perhaps, we don't know Johann like we think we do." Hiccup was more than doubtful, "Dagur's just being paranoid. As much as I hate to say it, his mind is going. Fast. You heard that he was about to kill Fishlegs. We can't trust his judgement. Not now. Maybe not ever." Slumping into a chair, Hiccup sighed.

After exiting the Great Hall, Dagur was about to hop onto Shattermaster's saddle. "What are **you** doing here?" a harsh voice questioned. The chief took a deep breath before turning, "I came here to warn all of you about Trader Johann. I heard that he's with the dragon hunters." Heather scoffed, "And we should believe **you** over a trusted friend? Johann has helped me more times than I can count. I won't stand for you trying to ruin his name around here." Dagur kept his expression unreadable, "You don't have to. I'm leaving." The other viking continued to glare, "Snotlout told me what you did to Fishleg's hand. You can't just come here and hurt the people I love." The chief's brows furrowed, "I didn't come here to hurt anyone-" "But you still did." she pressed, "You're dangerous and shouldn't be allowed on Berk." Dagur turned, slightly, from the viking, diverting his gaze from her hateful stare.

With his focus altered, he saw Johann standing a short distance from Heather, a blade in his hand. Like a flash of lightning, Dagur threw a blade into the man's chest. An oddly colored liquid came from the wound and he noticed that it smelled like mead. Heather spun to peek behind her and turned back to Dagur, confused, "So, now you're throwing knives into mead barrels? An ineffective way of getting a drink. The **last** thing you need is to be drunk, anyway. That blade might've gone into a person." The chief blinked, hard, "I thought..." Heather raised her hand, dismissively, "You're crazy. Hiccup and the others might think that you all are friends, but I know a threat when I see one." The viking stared at him and spoke again, "How do we know that **you **aren't on the hunters' side? Maybe it was all an illusion." She laughed, scornfully, "That would make a lot more sense." For a moment, hurt could have been seen in Dagur's eyes, "I'm not working with them." he promised, "I've been trying to stop them for a little while now."

Heather rolled her eyes, "And, again, we're just supposed to take you for your word. While you're doing your, alleged, justice seeking, I'll be making sure this island and these riders are safe. No matter what I have to do to ensure that." She walked away, stopping only when Dagur said something, "You stay safe too, Heather. I can't do as much as I'd like to for you, from afar." The young lady's eyes were cold, "Don't act like you care about me. You didn't care when you pushed me out into the sea to die." she spat, "Or when you killed my father." Dagur looked at her, sadly, and turned his face once more, "I'm sorry." he told her, "I-I understand that you don't want me to be around, but I hope that some day we'll be able to start over. Either way, I'll be there for you if you need me."

Dagur got onto Shattermaster's back, who had been snarling at the girl, "It's okay, boy. Let's go." he told the dragon, quietly. With a parting glance, the Berserker and Gronckle flew off of the island. Heather's glare softened, moderately, but she still huffed and walked away from the coast. Dagur stared at the seas and Shattermaster gave a small roar to get his attention. "My bad, bud. Let me see where we're going." He pulled a map out and looked it over, "We need to head West. It'll be a long ways there, but it's a big island. The hunters wouldn't be able to resist a place so chock filled with dragons." They soared through the skies and Dagur was glad that vikings could not converse back and forth with dragons. For the time being, he just preferred to think over things and not be disturbed. The sun set and rose, making no difference for the young man, but he wanted Shattermaster to be healthy and happy. "Mind heading down there?" he inquired, pointing to another island, "You can rest a bit."

The two made a quick shelter and Dagur roasted a yak leg over the Shattermaster-made fire. As he ate, the dragon drifted into sleep. Dagur dared not to take part in such acts and thought of many topics that night. Some of these included various eye exercises and meditations. The sun rose again over the island and Shattermaster awoke, smiling at Dagur. "Hey, buddy. Sleep well?" The Gronckle wagged his tail, happily, in response. His rider had gotten ready to go before he had risen, so they just needed to fly off. After flapping for some time, they viewed several hunter ships and headed down, stealthily. The vessels were empty and the dragon-viking duo could hear hunters wrangling up dragons. "Take that, you filthy beast!" someone shouted. The cry of a dragon sounded off and Dagur looked to see where everyone was. Thirty hunters were out in the open, trapping dragons; ten were dealing with the caged ones, cruelly; and two were watching as it all transpired.

"If we free enough dragons and keep the hunter's from their weapons, we should be able to stop them." Dagur whispered to Shattermaster. The Berserker grabbed a rock and threw it near the hunters, causing a racket that directed their attention to nothing worthwhile. As the viking that guarded some cages left, Dagur and Shattermaster, sneakily, ventured over and melted the doors. Some dragons leapt out and began attacking the hunters. The villains raised their bows and Dagur tossed up an oil barrel, having the Gronckle shoot. This made the vikings take cover and the reptiles began their meals. Dagur smirked and frowned when he saw a silvery dragon being cornered into a rock wall by a small group of hunters. Dagur threw a blade into the back of the viking's neck and the hunter's legs went weak. With a thump, he hit the ground and the dragon looked around for who helped it.

Dagur went over to check on the dragon, who was lying down, injured. The reptile was coated in blood that covered its armory scales. When he approached it, the dragon nuzzled him with its neck. Dagur laughed, "Don't mention it. Just sorry that you had already gotten hurt. Let's see what we can do to fix you up." The chief began to go over the dragon's body with a cloth, cleaning the wounds. He went to the ships to see what else they could use and found some first aid equiptment. Brightening, Dagur grabbed them and returned to the dragon. He made a splint for the reptile's left back claw and fixed up a concoction to spread onto the hurt skin. "There we are, girl." He turned to Shattermaster, "Guess that we'll be staying here for a bit to make sure she gets better." The injured reptile shivered and the Gronckle went over to her side and sat by her, providing his warmth. "After she's good, there's another big island that we have to head to. Can't imagine all the dragons that they're hurting and trying to capture there, but we'll stop them."


	22. Fresh Faces

Shattermaster had created a nice fire for his companions and Dagur was using it to cook a yak leg, "It's not half bad out here, huh pals? Of course, the fire would last longer, if this boulder were smaller. That way there would be more pieces and they could get, evenly, heated." He smiled, sweetly, at the silvery dragon, "Windshear, would you mind?" The reptile cut the boulder with her tail, splitting it into chunks. Dagur put his hands behind his head and leaned against Shattermaster's warm body, "Thank you." The group's relaxation period was, however, cut short. A rustling sound in the bushes caught the attention of the trio and they stalked over, battle ready. Dagur held a blade in both hands, waiting to throw it into the eye of a dragon hunter. He restrained himself from giggling at the glorious thought.

Figures emerged from the brush, although they were not the anticipated hunters. "Brother!" Dagur exclaimed, happily, going over and hugging Hiccup. The Berkian tensed when he saw the knives, "C-could you put those away?" The Berserker raised a brow and then followed Hiccup's gaze, "Oops, sure." he chuckled, sheepishly, "Was expecting someone else." Toothless went over to the viking and nuzzled against him, lovingly. Dagur returned the affection and glanced at the dragon riders, "Hey, is Fishy, **Fishy** again or still 'Bonecrusher?" he whispered. Hiccup grinned, "He's his old self again." Dagur walked over to the Ingerman and patted him on the shoulder, "Glad to have you back, buddy. How did you do it?" Fishlegs, once done wincing at the impact of the Berserker's hand, spoke, "They just had to scare me. Gothi told us that it would help and seeing my baby, Meatlug, in trouble," he hugged the Gronckle, "well, that was enough to snap me back."

Dagur's expression went unreadable for a moment, "Had to be scared back?" he echoed. Fishlegs nodded, still hugging his Gronckle. The Berserker's brows furrowed, slightly, and Hiccup strode over to the new dragon, "You found a Razor Whip?" Dagur turned to look at him and shrugged, "If that's what she is, I guess. I've never seen a dragon like her before. Cool, though, isn't she?" At this point, Fishlegs was over there by the dragon, inspecting and examining her, "Incredible. Hold on, let's see what the Dragon Eye says about her." He pulled out the artifact and went near a cave with Meatlug. After a few minutes, he ran back, smiling. "What did you find out?" Hiccup inquired, grinning at his friend's enthusiasm. "Razor Whips can cut, basically, **every** surface with their sharp spines! They're extremely powerful and even have poisonous tears. Isn't that amazing?" he told, eagerly.

The twins' mouths gaped as they eyed each other, mischievously, "A dragon that can kill you with **everything**." Tuff whispered, excitedly. "Does Heather have a dragon, yet?" Dagur asked, hopefully. "No, actually. We never found a dragon that she really was able to connect with." Fishlegs informed the Berserker. Dagur patted the Razor Whip's head, "Maybe Windshear, here, can be her new dragon? She's really affectionate and likes taking out hunters. I can see her and Heather getting along." The riders shrugged, "It's definitely possible." Hiccup commented. Still going over the dragon's body, Fishlegs gasped, "She has scars. From the size, they indicate that she was in a really bad fight." The chief nodded, "She was in a real bad shape when I first saw her. Shattermaster and I decided to stay here for a bit to help nurse her back to health. She's okay now, but isn't ready to be on her own. That's another reason why I was suggesting that Heather ride her."

Tuffnut's face fell, "**I **can ride her. She can be Mrs. Tuffnut Thorston." he proclaimed, dramatically. Astrid crossed her arms, "Tuff," she began, scoldingly, "you already have Barf and Belch." The twin scowled, "Why can't I have two? I wouldn't have to share Mrs. Thorston at all." Hiccup rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Oh gods. Dagur, we'll see if **Windshear**," he stated, with a significant look at Tuffnut, "would be willing to come back with us. After that, we'll introduce her to Heather and see what comes from it." Dagur smiled and it faltered, slightly, "Could you not tell her about my relation to Windshear? Maybe say something like, you found her on an island-which wouldn'tbe a lie." The riders looked at one another, then back at the Berserker, "Sure, we can tell her that. But, maybe she needs to know about you helping this dragon." Hiccup suggested, "Proof that there's another side to you." His friend looked down, "She won't want anything to do with Windshear, if she knows. I don't want Sheary to miss out on a good home because of me."

The Berkian gave a smile, "You know, since Windshear is so familar with you now, she could stay with you." Dagur shook his head, "Not a chance. She **just** got better. I'm not throwing her into battle so soon. If she's on Berk, she can help you guys keep everything safe and not have to be in the heat of it all." Hiccup looked upwards, trying not to be too obvious, "Although, if you weren't attacking ships everday, she'd be safe around you." The chief's brows furrowed, "I'm not done yet, but I'm changing tactics. Viggo can go through these hunters like water and it's taking too long to find him again. I gotta hurt him where it counts. Know where **that **is?" he sang. Hiccup shrugged and his comrade answered, "His gold. They'll be taking dragons every second no matter what, but if I mess up where they sell them-or whatever they do to get the real income rolling in-he'll be ruined." the viking laughed.

Hiccup tapped his chin, "That's not a bad idea. We could question a hunter and have them tell us the information." Dagur smirked, "You **might **want to wait until after I get the info. Then, I can bring you all in. I doubt that you'll agree with my methods of interrogation." A, grim, smile was plastered on the Berserker chief's face. The heir could not help the disturbed expression that he made and he walked over to Toothless, "Yeah, maybe you should contact us after you learn where we need to go." Dagur handed the Berkian a map, "I'll be going to one of these islands. Not sure which one yet." Hiccup nodded, "All right, in the meantime, we'll bring Windshear back with us." The riders walked to the Razor Whip and Dagur gave her one last pat, "Hey, Sheary, they're going to see if they can get you a rider. How does that sound to you?" Windshear raised her head and nuzzled it against the Berserker, lovingly. She rose from the ground and began walking over to the Berkians. Seeing that she was willing to go with them, the riders flew off.

Using another map, Dagur saw one that had a peculiar mark on it. "Wonder why they wrote that on there. Looks like we'll have to find out, Shattermaster." The Gronckle wiggled, preparing himself for the flight. The two set off in search of the mystery island, arriving within a few hours. The land mass was multicolored with flowers covering the ground. Dagur recognized none as Blue Oleander, so he had Shattermaster alight on the island. Listening closely, the pair followed the distressed roars of dragons. "Stay close." Dagur instructed, quietly. Typhoomerangs and Changewings were being forced into cages by a fleet of hunters. Load by load they were getting hauled onto the ships. Stealthily, Dagur crept past some vikings and caught one, taking him behind a boulder.

The Berserker pushed a blade against the hunter's throat, "As you can see, it'd be best if you, **quietly**, told me what I wanted to know." Fear was in the viking's eyes and he nodded. Dagur smiled, "Good. How does Viggo bring in the big cash? He can't get it all just from selling hides, can he?" The hunter's breaths were shaky and his voice trembled, "No, he can't. H-he uses dragon fighting arenas a-and dragon auctions." The Berserker pondered about what he heard, "Helpful to know. Where do these take place?" His informant gulped, "I don't know where the auctions are. Th-they move around, constantly, I swear. The other hunters and I were going to take these dragons back, though, for the fights." Dagur nodded, thoughtfully, "You've been so good in aiding me that I, almost, don't want to kill you."

The hunter attempted to smile, "I appreciate that-" "Of course," the chief began, tapping the hunter's neck with the knife, "you'd be a loose end that I, **really**, can't chance having around." He dug the dagger into the man's windpipe, "Think of it this way, you died helping innocent dragons. How noble of you." Dagur yanked the knife out, widening the gash and making the hunter fall down, dead. Striding over to the Gronckle, Dagur planted himself on Shattermaster's saddle, "The next Terrible Terror we find, we use to let the riders know. Right now, though, we need to know where, in the name of Thor, we're going. On the bright side, buddy, it seems like we'll get some guides." He giggled and the two embarked.

They followed the ships to another island that was coated in hunters and audience members for the fight. Wanting to keep his dragon from being caught, as the others had been, Dagur hid Shattermaster away within some rocks, mud, and brushes. As he did this, they saw a Terrible Terror. Dagur got to his knees and, quietly, called the dragon over, "Come here, little buddy. Can you help us, help the other dragons?" The Terror crawled towards him and stood still for the letter to be attached onto its body. "Thanks, now if you could go find Hiccup. Uh, here." the viking pulled out the map that Hiccup had touched, "This has his scent. Can you use that to track him?" The Terrible Terror scurried off and the duo kept an eye on the arena.

"Yep, we got some Groncles, a Razor Whip, our champion, of course." Dagur heard a hunter say. _"A 'champion'?" _the Berserker wondered. "It'll all be set up in about half an hour." the same viking told. That would not provide enough time for the other riders to come and help. Dagur had to handle this on his own, _"No big whoop there."_ he thought, _"Let's see where the main guards are. Okay, the East and West wing hunters keep watch over the arena. Sure are doing a poor job, though. A few dozen vikings are scattered throughout the place. The pins are to my right, it seems. And-" _his thoughts were cut into when another, more familiar, voice sounded, "You better make sure that none of your new dragons are too valuable. If they get hurt and we can't sell their skins, I'll be selling **yours**."

Dagur felt his muscles tense as he heard Ryker speaking. Temptation whispered in his ear, begging him to drive a blade into the hunter's head. As lovely of a thought as that was, if he did that, everything would be on lock down and he would be unable to free the imprisoned dragons. He needed to focus on the big picture. Begrudgingly, Dagur thought up a different plan. The arena was too full of hunters for him to start an attack out there, he needed to be **inside**. "They'll have to open that hatch when they let out the dragons. As soon as they do, we fly in and free them." he whispered, "We'll have to be quick and efficient, so our usual selves." The viking chuckled and crouched down, waiting for their opening. Speedily, he scanned the area again and saw the hunters that were in his and Shattermaster's way. They would be easy to take out and he would do so by utilizing his knives.

Gradually, the arena hatch went upwards, letting out two dragons. One was a Monstrous Nightmare and the other was one that Dagur had never seen before. It was dark brown and orange, had a long tail with stingers on the end, and pinchers for front paws. Taking no time to marvel at the unique creature, the Berserker and Gronckle went past the hunters and zoomed into the dragon prison. Shattermaster spewed lava onto the pin doors, releasing their locks and emancipating the captives. In a frenzy, the dragons escaped their cells and flew out into the main arena. Some hunters tried shooting down the, newly, freed reptiles and Dagur stopped them. The viking and Gronckle hovered over one hunter, with a raised crossbow, and Dagur dismounted. He tackled the other viking to the ground, pinning him to the floor with a knife down his mouth and through to the back of his head.

Shattermaster did his part by roasting any hunter that attempted to recapture a dragon. Soon, practically every dragon had escaped. All except the unfamiliar one. The reptile was antsy, kept pacing back and forth, and looking from where the other dragons were to the hunters. _"He's been in captivity too long."_ Dagur realized, sadly, _"He knows that it's terrible to be here, but he **doesn't **know what it's like out there and fears it.__"_ The hunters seemed capable of sensing the dragon's fear and began stalking towards him, "Get back in your cell, you pathetic beast." one snarled. The dragon eyed the pins and shrunk, slightly. The hunter was not feeling patient and raised his bow, "I won't repeat myself." Still hesitant, the reptile stayed stationary, preparing himself for the unpleasant effects of Dragon Root. He growled, quietly, when he saw an arrow whiz in his direction.

Opening one eye, the dragon saw that the arrow had been caught by Dagur. The Berserker charged at the hunter, digging the arrow into his flesh. Crying out, the hunter's legs went limp and he collapsed to the floor. The other hunters had been taken out by the viking, the Gronckle, and the freed dragons, so the last was gone. "It's not safe for you to be here, bud." Dagur told the reptile, "I get it that the unknown can be terrifying, but even the **chance **of happiness is better than the certainty of misery." Shattermaster backed up what his friend was saying and communicated to the other dragon. Timidly, the dragon walked over to them and looked to the skies. "There's a whole world out there that you could see. How about giving it a try?" the Berserker suggested, grinning. He got onto Shattermaster's back and watched as the reptile took to the air with them.

As they hovered over the island, Dagur looked down and frowned, "He got away." he growled, "Ryker was, actually, there and he slipped through our fingers." The viking let out a sigh and looked at the dragon to his side, a small smile forming. There would be another day for revenge and justice, but that day, lives had been saved. That, in and of itself, was enough of a reason to celebrate. The Berserker chief laughed as he saw the Berkians flying over to him, "Well, good to know that my message was received." The riders gaped at all the dragons, "Where did they all come from? How many ships did you have to raid?" Hiccup asked, dumbfounded. "None." Dagur told, "Got all of these from a fighting arena. This big boy was the champion." Fishlegs looked through some notes, "He's a Triple Stryke. Ooh, I've never seen one in person before. I guess, eventually, he'll start making his way to his own island."

The riders began making sure that the dragons got back to their, respective, homes. "They have auctions too." Dagur informed the others, "The guy didn't know where they had them, though, so I'll have to keep asking around." Rubbing his chin, Hiccup was deep in thought, _"__We could really do something with those auctions. Get right in the middle of it all and trick them."_ he figured. Time passed and more dragons left to rejoin their families. When they were done, only the Triple Stryke remained. "I don't think he **has** a family, anymore." Hiccup mentioned. Dagur eyed the reptile, empathetically, "Maybe he could use new one." he thought aloud.

As the riders had to go their separate paths, the Triple Stryke did not hesitate to follow Dagur. The chief cackled, "Okay, it looks like we're having a new comrade on our trips, Shattermaster. You'll need a name, though." He stroked his beard, thoughtfully, "Triple Stryke. Triple Stryke." he repeated, quietly. "How about "Sleuther'?" Tuffnut offered. Dagur shrugged, "Not bad, but to be honest, I'll probably end up calling him 'Strykie'." The vikings went their own ways and the Triple Stryke followed the Berserker and Gronckle off to their next location. "While I'd love to get out there and start messing up Viggo some more, **maybe **we should train you a bit, first, Strykie. Have to make sure that we know what you can do." Dagur pulled out another map, "I remember this one. Nice, serene. Let's head Northeast, Shattermaster. School is about to be in session."


	23. Hunters the Hunted

**Unrelated to this story, but for everyone that is reading, please take care of yourselves. Love yourself, not in an arrogant way, but with self-confidence. Know that you deserved to be loved by others and try not to stress. Illnesses are formed when you do not adhere to these things, so request the same of your loved ones. It is the most miserable feeling in the world to see them suffer and the most bittersweet to see that they no longer are.**

Dagur, Shattermaster, and Sleuther returned to Berserker Island, within a few hours, and were greeted by its inhabitants. "Chief, you're back!" Vorg exclaimed, happily. The younger viking did not yet dismount the Gronckle, "Not for too long. I just have to train Strykie, here, and then we'll be heading back out." A grin crossed his face, "It'll be a lot easier to take down hunters with **both **of these bad boys." Dagur led the two back towards the stables and had them stop, "Now Strykie, I know that you're used to fighting dragons, however we have a Skrill friend who'll be cool around you. I'm not saying that you have to be bosom buddies right away, but try not to attack him, please." the chief requested. He got off of the Gronckle's back and patted his head, "Shattermaster, you stay here with him. Get him ready and I'll let Bluebolt know that we've got company." The reptile wagged his tail in agreement and went to Sleuther's side.

Dagur walked into the stables and Bluebolt rushed over to him, excitedly. "Hey, Bolty." the Berserker greeted, "I've got another dragon with me again. This time, he's a Triple Stryke who's **kind** **of** accustomed to attacking other dragons." He gave a sheepish smile, when the Skrill seemed to sigh. "He's getting along with Shattermaster really well, though. Just try to play nice as the two of you get to know each other." The viking went back to the two reptiles and brought them into the stables. Bluebolt and Strykie sniffed around, hesitantly. "This is Bluebolt." Dagur said, gesturing to the Skrill, "And this is Strykie." he did the same motion for the Triple Stryke. "He'll come with Shattermaster and I to help take out hunters, but first I need to make sure that he can work with us-and stuff like that."

The Berserker chief set up some dummies and pop up foes throughout the area. When he had finished, he backed up and observed, expectantly. "All right, Strykie. Before I start training you, let's see what your instincts are. Imagine that all of those are hunters. What would you do?" The Triple Stryke eyed the objects and viking, curiously, prior to taking a few steps towards the entrance. Getting in a fighting stance, Sleuther lunged at the dummies, roasting them to charred forms with his blasts. As a fake viking popped up, the dragon pinned it to the ground using his tail. The display showed a ferocity that left Dagur looking in awe. The Berserker noted that each time the reptile prepared to attack, he made a clicking noise. _"Look at him. So ready to kill anything that even **resembles **a hunter. Perfect!" _the chief thought, happily, _"Wonder if that tail of his has any kinds of poison? Only one way to find out."_

"There's another thing that I want you to try." Dagur told Sleuther. He exited the stables and returned with three chickens. "I'm curious about your tail. Can you try using a different stinger on each chicken?" he requested. Swiftly, the dragon stung the poultry and Dagur's eyes were glued to their reactions. One kept shaking her head, as if to clear it, and walked around, slowly. _"Maybe that one messes with the victim's sight."_ Dagur pondered. He eyed the other two, seeing that another was swaying. Before long, the bird fell to the ground. The Berserker walked over to it, bending down to see if it were still breathing. The bird was only sleeping, soundly. _"A tranquilizer. Nice." _the chief mused, grinning. The last chicken was shaking, uncontrollably, and squawking. It was, almost, disturbing to witness as the poor fowl begged to be taken out of its misery. A grim smile crossed Dagur's face, _"And that one tortures you." _He began to laugh at the thought and it grew to a deranged cackle.

Testing out accuracy, Dagur had Sleuther shoot some barrels at a distance. The Triple Stryke excelled and hit every target. Since precision was fine, Dagur wanted to see how well the dragon could listen to commands and work with other dragons. "Strykie, follow Shattermaster's lead and blast these." The Berserker threw a multitude of different non-lethal items at the two. Shattermaster dodged and blasted, but Sleuther was more agitated. Some of him enjoyed the exercise while some thought that he was under attack. The end result was the reptile hovering in the air and sending some blasts towards the objects, Gronckle, and viking. Shattermaster growled at him and Dagur sidestepped the shot. "This isn't to hurt you. We just have to make sure that you can handle what we do." the chief called up to him.

Bluebolt hissed at the Triple Stryke and Dagur motioned for him to calm down. "Strykie," Dagur began, calmly, "It's your call. If you want to take out the hunters, you **have **to be able to do this. Otherwise, you can stay and protect the island with Bluebolt. Either's fine, but I'd **really **like your help." Sleuther looked at the two dragons and viking. Gradually, he appeared more settled and lowered his head in an apologetic manner. Dagur patted his head, "It's all right." After doing this, the dragon got back into the air and tried again. Still, Strykie was having to adjust to working with another dragon, but there was improvement. By the time just less than a week had passed, Sleuther was able to work side by side with Shattermaster and be ridden. This was perfect because Dagur had been eying the maps again and there was another island that he wanted to see. Plus, if he could find a hunter, he could find out where the auctions were.

The trio set off for their voyage, flying East. Dagur spotted various landmarks that alerted him to them becoming closer to their desired island. Smiling, devilishly, the Berserker called the dragons' attentions to a hunter ship, "Stay stealthy. If they can't see us, they won't expect being killed." Creeping, the three headed over to the vessel and were about to blast them up, when Dagur saw someone familiar. "That's Stormsky-er, chaser-Astrid's dragon." he told the others, giving up on trying to remember the name. Suddenly, he scowled, "If **she's** here that means that Astrid is either in a cell or in the sea. Let's see if we can figure out which one." Closer, they moved and listened to the disgruntled sounds of hunters. "Wish we at, least, had that rider too. She'd be a good servant for the ship." Dagur heard one say. Mentally, he cursed, _"If Astrid is out on the sea, she'll need help sooner than later. I'll free the Nadder, real fast and come back for the others."_

Shattermaster swooped down and spewed lava on the chains that held Stormfly as Dagur threw blades into the hunters' heads. Even though she was freed, the Deadly Nadder did not seem able to fly away. Dagur slapped his forehead, "Right, dragon root." he recalled, exasperated. He whistled and Sleuther came over, picking up Stormfly and taking off. Shattermaster and Dagur provided cover for the two to escape and followed them out. Despite wanting to make sure that the Berkian and her dragon were okay, the chief could not help being slightly annoyed. He had come very close to being able to get more information, but had to take the detour. As quickly as the hunters were hauling Stormfly into the lower decks, the trio would not have been able to retrieve her without causing a commotion. The Berserker had no idea where Astrid was nor how long it would take to find her. He wanted her to be safe, however he also wished that she had not been involved and his plans could have not been interrupted.

The three flew for hours, looking for any sign of someone drifting on the sea. Clouds filled the sky and darkened, indicating a storm on the horizon. Dagur kept glancing at Sleuther, _"That Nadder's not snapping out of it, but Strykie's not tiring out any."_ Squinting, the Berserker scanned the ocean that was beginning to become wild. Waves as large as mountains crashed into each other and, narrowly, missed the dragons and viking. "Look out!" Dagur called. Sleuther pulled up, just in time, and Shattermaster did a roll. When they were right side up, Dagur spotted a figure floating in the water. It was only being kept above the sea by a piece of driftwood. "Head down to the right." the Berserker instructed. He and the Gronckle zoomed down and a large wave rose over their heads. It was about to collide with them and did succeed in knocking Astrid off her floating device.

"Stay back, until I bring her up." Dagur told Shattermaster. He could not afford them **all** to be swept away and leapt from the reptile's saddle. Diving into the sea, Dagur swam down and took hold of the Berkian. He brought her up to the surface and a different wave pushed them under again. The viking held his breath and clamped a hand over Astrid's mouth, so that she could not breathe in any water. Holding her, securely, they resurfaced and he whistled for Shattermaster to come back. The dragon dove and got them before another wave could hit. The Berserker got onto the saddle once more with his friend in his arms. "We have to go into the eye of the storm." Dagur informed the two dragons. Once they were out of the torrential rains, the chief could take a better look at Astrid. She was shaken and freezing, but alive. Her eyes were fluttery as she opened them, noticing the difference between her surroundings.

"D-Dagur?" she asked, weakly. The chief smiled, encouragingly, "Save your strength. It's a good distance back to Berk." Astrid shook her head, tiredly, "No, we don't stay on Berk anymore." Dagur raised a brow, "What? Since-nevermind. Where do I take you?"he inquired. The Berkian fought hard to not pass out, "We're on Dragon's Edge. It-it should be East from here." she leaned her head back, "It's the first island and has some huts on the South side." Her eyes closed and she rested. Dagur hoped that Astrid would be all right and the dragons set their course for the new location. It was not, nearly, as long a trip to the Edge as it would have been for Berk. They viewed an island that fit the Berkian's description and they landed on the shore. The Dragon Riders approached them, surprised and then relieved to see Astrid.

Dagur dismounted Shattermaster and, gently, carried Astrid over to the other vikings. "Oh my Thor, Astrid." Hiccup stated, rushing over to her. He took the viking in his arms and brought her to a hut where he made sure that she was all right. When he was certain that she was, he returned to see the Berserker. "Thank you." Hiccup said, sincerely, "I don't know what I'd do if Astrid had.." he could not finish the statement and Dagur understood why. "You're welcome, Brother. She's going to be fine, just is really cold now. She had been knocked into the sea and drifted for a while." he chuckled, "I'd suggest her getting some rest, but knowing Astrid, she'll probably be up and ready in a few seconds." Fishlegs started to check on Stormfly, who was returning to her normal self, "Who did this?" he asked. Dagur looked at the two, "Dragon hunters. They had a whole load of dragons in their lower compartment, but since there was a **bit **of a pressing matter, we didn't get them."

The riders nodded, understandably, and Dagur went to go back to his own dragons. "Where are you going?" Hiccup asked. The chief nuzzled Sleuther's head, ensuring that he was not too fatigued. "I told you. We didn't stop the hunters and have to. This isn't a pleasure trip. I just wanted to get Astrid back here." He frowned, slightly, "Not like I knew where **here **was. How come you didn't mention moving?" The Berkian shrugged, "It didn't come up, I guess." He moved towards Toothless, "You don't have to go, alone. We'll come with you and it'll be easier to take down the hunters." His friend made a face, "But that's the problem. You guys want to take **down **the hunters while I want to take them **out**. If you promise to not get squeamish on me, you can come. Otherwise..." he waved goodbye at them. Hiccup rubbed the back of his neck, "Well, I definitely don't condone doing that, but you really went out of your way for us. It wouldn't feel right to have you start over on our account."

Dagur's eyes lit up, "I know their ports like the back of my knife. They'll be halfway to the next stop, but if we head North, we'll catch them. Of course, we have to move, quickly, so someone could stay with Astrid when we go." The sound of shuffling came towards them, "No one's staying with me. I'm going after those vikings that tried to take Stormfly." She patted the Deadly Nadder under her chin. Swiftly, the Berkian got on the saddle and the other Berkians followed suit. The group flew North, being led by Dagur. "When we see the ship, we have to move, quietly. The hunters aren't very observant and it's easy to sneak past them. Before they even realize it, the dragons will be freed and their own heads'll be plastered on my wall." the Berserker laughed. The rest eyed him, cautiously, "Actually, I was thinking that we could infiltrate the ship. Kind of make them believe that they caught us." Hiccup suggested.

The Berserker was hesitant, "How, exactly, would you make them believe that they caught you?" Hiccup gestured to Fishlegs, "Gronckles are immune to Dragon Root, so we can make them think that you and Fishlegs are being taken down. After you get down to the pins, you can get the keys from the guards and free the dragons." The look on Dagur's face was simultaneously blank and disbelieving, "Fishlegs and **myself**?" he clarified. Hiccup nodded and the Berserker laughed, scornfully, "H, I'm not doing that. Besides, the hunters are **dragon **hunters, remember? They aren't going to be fooled by that." The heir was still certain, "If they're used to using those arrows, we might be able to confuse them for long enough to free the dragons." Dagur rolled his eyes, "And we can't use my plan because...?" he dragged. "Because I really think that this will work. It's the fastest way to get down there, so why risk not being able to do the save?"

It was clear to Dagur that the riders were going to follow Hiccup's plan, so he did not waste any more time trying to change their minds. "Whatever. Either way, I'm not doing that. Sorry, Fishy, but if you want to go down, you're doing it without me." The Berkian seemed disappointed by this, although did not attempt to dissuade him. More irritation settled into Dagur as he knew that if he were to do his idea, the riders' covers would he blown. Also, they might get themselves killed without him being there to prevent that outcome. A hunter ship came into view and it was all Dagur could do to restrain himself from sighing as the riders zoomed towards the vessel. Blasting, aimlessly, they drew the hunters' attentions and arrows fired at the vikings. "Okay, Fishlegs. Ready?" Hiccup inquired. The Ingerman nodded and headed down, Meatlug getting grazed by an arrow and falling to the deck. "We're hit!" Fishlegs shouted, feigning alarm. As soon as the two hit the ship, they were taken to the lower compartments.

"And now, we wait." Hiccup said, ignoring the frown on Dagur's visage. The Berserker rapped his fingers on Shattermaster's saddle, impatiently. Within a few infernal minutes, Fishlegs and Meatlug reappeared with some new dragons. "See?" Hiccup pressed, "Everything is going according to plan." Dagur stayed back a bit while the others flew over, firing at hunters. All in a flash, arrows whizzed through the air, taking out the freed dragons once more. The chief growled and his trio flew down to help. A net was about to go over Fishlegs' and Meatlug's heads when Sleuther blasted it. Nonetheless, they could not prevent the chain that caught the Gronckle's leg. Speedily, Fishlegs too was captured. Hunters were about to prepare arrows for shooting down Snotlout when Dagur got them with his blades. Still not in the clear, a catapult launched past them and was nearing Barf and Belch.

Instinctively, Shattermaster moved to knock the Zippleback out of the way. The Gronckle let out a whimper as the boulder collided with him and the pair fell into the sea. Sleuther dove after them, but was forced to fly upwards to avoid the onslaught of ammunition. The icy water slapped the duo in the face. Dagur tried to get to Shattermaster to see if he were all right, but he appeared injured. Before the Berserker could do anything, a net was cast over the water and tangled the two. Another arrow hit Stormfly and she and Astrid landed on the deck. Hunters hauled the Gronckle and Berserker onto the ship as an unwelcomed sense of panic took control of Dagur. Visibly, one could not tell, but on the inside he was hyper ventillating. _"No, I can't be a prisoner again."_ he thought, over and over like a forgetful viking would.

He and Shattermaster were brought onto the ship and he was aware that if he wanted the dragon and Berkians to stay alive, he would do best by not brandishing his blades. There were too many hunters and the Gronckle could not fly, properly. He would have to wait for the right time and that meant being into another jail. Sleuther was, evidently, distressed at seeing his friends in danger. So badly, he wanted to swoop down and bring them up, but the hunters' weapons were too abundant for that. He had to retreat with the Berkians and, regretfully, he left with them. Ryker walked out of a door, arms folded behind his back, "Did ya really think that I didn't know about Gronckles having Dragon Root immunity? What kind of hunters would we be?" he inquired, smugly. Seeing him, Dagur glared and the hunter noticed him, shortly. "Dagur?" he asked, doubtfully, "You came all this way just to get thrown in another cell?"

He stalked over to the viking and drew his sword, tapping the young man's neck with it. Dagur kept his gaze cool and did not even allow his hand to twitch in its yearning to choke the life out of Ryker. "You've made things **very** difficult for my hunters. Think that it's time I remind you who you're dealing with." He motioned to some hunters, "Take them to the pins, but put this one in a cell of his own. I don't want him cleaning like the rest. He'll get a different punishment." a grim smile crossed the viking's face. Hunters pressed blades against the riders' backs and forced them towards the cells. Dagur kept his breathing down, so as to not portray his nerves, but Fishlegs' audible panicking did not help matters. The Berserker wanted to tell his friend to shut the heck up-in less kind words. Squealing was not aiding them in any way. Fishlegs and Astrid were pushed into a cell and Dagur was put in one across from them.

While the Berserker had never thought of himself as claustrophobic, the cell walls **did **seem to be closing in on him. Blood dripped from the walls and the viking could not tell if it belonged to him or his comrades. "Are you guys bleeding?" he asked. They eyed him, "No." He felt that with every breath they took, the oxygen was being depleted from the area. Fishlegs was, also, taking in large gasps of air, trying to not pass out from fear. "Don't breathe so much." Dagur grumbled. The Berkians, barely, heard him and Astrid tried to calm down Fishlegs. "We just need to find a way to get the key." _"No, darn."_ the Berserker mused, pacing, moderately. "Hiccup and the others will come up with a plan to get us out of this." Astrid told. Scornful would not even describe Dagur's laugh and expression, "There's no way that I'm waiting for Mr. They Won't See It Coming's next plan. I'm finding another way out. We're not staying here any longer than when the next hunter arrives alone."

Sleuther, Hiccup, Snotlout, and the twins were flying to a new island. Hiccup had recalled the Screaming Death and thought that they could use its scales as armor. They arrived and Sleuther was the first one to find the sought after skin. "Nice job, Sleuther." Hiccup commended. The group began to collect the items when a loud, crumbling noise commenced. Within less time than preferred, the Screaming Death appeared and bared its teeth. "Great idea, Hiccup!" Snotlout said, sarcastically, "Now, at least, we'll **all **die. I was beginning to feel left out!" The dragon charged at the group and Strykie stood in front of them. Sidestepping, the Triple Stryke stung the other dragon with his tranquilizer stinger. The vikings looked on, impressed, "**Really **nice job." Hiccup told him. Since they were not sure how long the toxins lasted, they, hastily, took the scales and flew off. Snotlout and the twins began sewing cross and lock stitches into the skin for them to utilize. Soon, they were ready to head off.

Back at the prison, Ryker entered with some of his hunters. Half of the vikings took the Berkians out of their cell. "You'll get to see the 'accommodations' that **my** dragons are receiving." Ryker informed them. The two glared as they were pushed down the hall. Moving his attention to Dagur's cell, Ryker unlocked the door and entered with four hunters. "Tie his hands behind his back." he instructed, returning his sword to the Berserker's throat to prevent movement. Dagur's arms were forced behind him and, tightly, he was restrained. "Just can't handle me without the harnesses, huh?" the viking taunted, trying to convince even himself that he had more bravado. "I don't like taking unnecessary risks." Ryker divulged, "Want to tell me where the Dragon Eye is?" The younger viking stayed silent. Ryker pulled something out from behind him and Dagur's heart skipped a beat. _"No." _he thought, miserably. A dart went into a vein on his left arm and a burning sensation, immediately, followed.

"That should be a large enough dose to make up for the missed ones." Ryker said, smiling cruelly. In a quick slice, he cut some of Dagur's throat, though not deep enough to induce death. Not yet wanting to be done, the hunter punched him in the face and sent a strong kick into the Berserker's stomach, sending him into the wall. "As should **that**. For now." Ryker stated, locking the door and leaving, "You better hope that the green Gronckle can spew lava all day long because if it doesn't, it'll be on the bottom of the sea." Dagur glowered after the viking, or, at least, where he thought that the viking was. More blood dripped from the walls and even poured around him. The Berserker tried to kick his legs to keep from drowning in the liquid. He heard Shattermaster roaring in pain and swam towards the cell door. "Shattermaster!" he yelled, pulling at the bars. After a little while, the viking saw the two riders and some hunters. Just before they were pushed into their cells, the hunters drew their axes and swung them towards the vikings' heads.

"Fishy! Astrid!" Dagur called, trying to warn them. The Berkians eyed him, curiously, as the hunters left. They had never been in that kind of danger. "What?" Astrid asked. The Berserker blinked a few times and noticed that he had not been pulling on any bars either as his hands were still tied together. Likewise, the cells had no blood in it and, certainly, not enough to flood the jail. The Berkians stared at him, examinely, "Are you all right, Dagur?" Fishlegs asked. His expression turned to one of concern, "You're bleeding and shaking." he noted. Trying his best to stop the tremors, Dagur forced a smile-which ended up resembling a grimace. "I'm fine." he lied, "What's happening to our dragons?" Astrid frowned, furious at their treatment, "They're being used to make the hunters weapons. Gronckle Iron and spear tips." she grunted, "When I get out of here and I'm going to show Ryker just how to use those Nadder spines."

Dagur tried to keep his mind as clear as possible and began fidgeting around to find one of his knives. The Berserker smirked, _"The only good thing about me going to Alvin first is that the hunters don't know about my stowing habits. Didn't even search me.__"_ Too busy coming up with their own plans, the two Berkians did not notice Dagur as he cut the ropes around his wrists. Jingling caught the Berserker's attention and he saw a hunter patrolling back and forth. "I'm ready to tell you about the Dragon Eye." Dagur said, in a hoarse voice. The hunter walked over and crossed his arms, "Well?" The Berserker leaned closer to the bars, "As you can tell, my voice is a bit scratchy from swallowing salt water. I can come over here, but you have to get closer too." The hunter complied and stepped nearer to the cell. Yelping, the viking found himself being yanked into the bars with a blade pressing against the back of his neck.

"You might want to give me that key." Dagur told him, calmly. Quickly, the hunter handed over the item. "Thank you." the viking said, digging the knife into the other man's neck and pushing it through to the front, killing him. Dagur unlocked his cell and went over to free the Berkians. "The lock's over here." Fishlegs said, making Dagur realize that he was attempting to unlock a bar cell. Reddening, slightly, the Berserker moved to the lock and got the two out. "Now, you get your dragons and then we free the rest." he told them. The went to the reptile pins and got them loose. "Okay, Shattermaster, can you stand?" Dagur asked the Gronckle. The dragon limped, badly, almost matching his rider. It tore at the viking's heart, "I'm sorry, fella. Maybe the Nadder can fly us out of here." He helped the dragon walk and avoided any board that looked uneven, knowing that it could be a trap. They freed the other dragons and Shattermaster kept them quiet.

Going to the deck, Dagur slit the throat of a hunter who was standing guard. He motioned that the coast was clear and the riders flew upwards, firing blasts at the ship. The green Gronckle targeted the wenches while Dagur targeted the bow and arrows. Of course, it was simple to prevent anything from being shot when you killed the shooter. From the side, they could see Sleuther and the Berkians returning, fully equipped with Screaming Death scale armor. Automatically, the Triple Stryke lifted Shattermaster, relieving him from the pain of walking, and blasted the hunters. With more dragons attacking, the hunters were on the run. Dagur spotted Ryker amongst the chaos and leapt away from his dragons. He would not try to bring them closer to someone so dangerous, nor would he let that opportunity pass him by again.

The hunter was running for the lower compartments and Dagur threw a blade. The knife hit the viking in the back of his right knee, making him stop. He let out a yell and the Berserker caught up to him, happily. He punched the older viking in the stomach, causing him to reel over, and a blow to the head, nearly, knocked Ryker unconscious. Dagur drew another blade and tore into the hunter's shoulder with it. Pressing the blade to Ryker's temple, Dagur walked with him to grab some chains. Speedily, he chained the hunter's hands and feet together. They went back to the two dragons and Dagur tossed him onto the saddle. A large grin was plastered on the chief's face, "Guess what, Rykie?" The hunter eyed him, warily. "You're at **my **mercy now." Dagur informed him, beginning to laugh in the most disturbing way the Berkians had heard so far. They dared not say anything, yet, as they flew away from the ships. Concern, dread, and jubilation were the respective emotions that the various vikings felt on the flight. Ryker had made those three years of Dagur's life miserable, so it would only be suiting if he understood how that felt.


	24. New and Old Inmates

The Berkians and Berserker had been flying for some time. There was an odd silence because everyone was either in deep thought or unsure what to say. Despite feeling furious at Hiccup for insisting that they do that idiotic plan of his, Dagur was just as joyful that he had captured Ryker. Being the first to speak-and surprising no one-was Tuffnut. "So, I guess Hiccup's plan wasn't a **total **fail. I mean, it came close. Like **really **close. As in-" "We get it, Tuff." the heir interrupted, slightly annoyed. The Berserker chief kept his gaze forward, "You're right on both accounts, Tuff." Hiccup bit his lip, "Uh, well we can bring Ryker back to Berk and interrogate him." For the first time in a little while, Dagur looked at Hiccup. His expression was disbelieving and irritated, "He's coming back with me." The Berkians eyed each other, worriedly, "Mind if I ask why?" Hiccup inquired.

Dagur scoffed, "I don't mind, but I **am **shocked that you have to ask. Call it karma." A frown went over Hiccup's face, "Revenge isn't the way to handle this." His friend rolled his eyes, "I'm not getting lectured over this, Brother. You can ask him some things, sure, but in the end, Rykie's coming with me." For the remainder of the trip, Hiccup sought to find the right words to change Dagur's mind and none entered came to him. The vikings landed in the Berserker stables and dismounted. The chief yanked Ryker off Strykie's saddle and choked him to unconsciousness. A sick grin was on the Berserker's face and his friends watched in mild horror. As Dagur eyed their looks, he noticed that he was not wringing the hunter's neck and instead was holding air. He grimaced, grabbed Ryker actually this time, and accomplished the deed. Bluebolt flew over to them, nuzzling his head against Shattermaster. "I'm going to get a healer for him, pal." Dagur told the Skrill.

After a short time, the chief returned with another viking. The newcomer carried a large bag with her. She bent down to the Gronckle and began a few procedures. Dagur was tapping his foot as he watched, anxiously, "How is he? Is it a fatal injury?" he asked, panic rising in his chest. The healer smiled, comfortingly, "It's not fatal. He'll be fine." The chief let out a sigh of relief. "**But**," The other viking prefaced, making the Berserker's muscles tense. "He can't fly for too long anymore." Dagur looked at Shattermaster, sadly, and got down on his knees to pet him, "I'm sorry, boy. Looks like we'll have to tell you and Bolty stories about our kills." He rose from the ground and shook hands with the healer, "Thanks, Freya." She returned to her stations and Dagur watched as Ryker, gradually, stirred awake, "I'll relocate our pal here, first." Dagur walked towards the hunter and took hold of the chains, dragging him to the prison. The riders followed him, keeping in time with his hasty pace.

The Berserker chief's jaw locked as he walked toward the jail. A new sense of trepidation filled him and he tightened his grip on the chains. With each step his leg throbbed, seemingly to only remind him of the last time he was in an actual prison. His breathing and heartbeat became faster as he tried to continue on. Another yard closer and he felt like he was sinking into the ground with every stride he took. An unsettling chuckle came from his right and he glanced in that direction, seeing Alvin smirking at him. Learning from past mistakes, Dagur peeked at the other vikings and saw that they were not looking at the Outcast. _"Another figment."_ he noticed, annoyed. "Oh, don't want to pay me attention, Dagur?" Alvin asked, in a mocking tone, "Ya'll **have **to, when you're in the jail. As far as you know, my cell's right at the entrance." The chief glared, but did not lock eyes with the older viking.

"You're just trying to offend me now. I get the feeling that you don't want to see me again." Alvin stroked his dirty beard, thoughtfully, "If I were ya, I'd be more worried about what someone like me might tell the others. Heck, even lies could ruin your reputation!" he laughed, heartily, and sucked his teeth, "They'd never respect you again, after I'm through." Dagur's pace slowed, significantly, however, he still kept walking. _"Fake Al has a point._" he realized, eyes widening, _"The real one could tell them what happened, lie about what didn't, or just make up random stuff."_ Hardly noticeably, the Berserker shook his head, _"No, they'd believe me over Alvin, anytime. Still...being in a dark, dank jail for the fourth time in a span of a few months sounds awful.__"_

Dagur fought hard to supress a grunt of frustration._"What's wrong with me?" _he wondered,_ "Just go in there and throw him in a cell. If I'm going to repay Ryker for what he's done, I need to be able to go into the prison." _His eyes brightened, _"Plus, it'll be great to see Alvin behind bars. Maybe **that's **what I need. The certainty that he's trapped and helpless. At the complete mercy of any and every arbitrary thing I might decide to do._ _Hopefully, then all those nightmares will go away. They'll have to. After all, I'll see that he's not a threat to me or anyone else. Yep, I'm going to enjoy this trip. I doubt that visiting hours have been utilized, anyway." _Redundantly, the viking kept telling himself that he would take pleasure in the upcoming task, though his mind was a difficult one to settle. _"I guess, I don't **have** to see the Outcast this time. Might just toss Rykes into the first cell we find and leave. Being ignored is another irritating thing about being imprisoned."_ he, futilely, tried to reason.

After what felt like an eternity, Dagur and the Berkians reached the door. Too brisk for anyone to notice his ashen face or for his doubts to take hold, Dagur barged in the prison. A guard approached him, "Aye, Chief." she saluted. The leader shifted, slightly, on his feet and forced a smile, "Mind giving me the key for this cell." He pointed to one, closest to the door. The other Berserker raised a brow, "No disrepect, Sir, but wouldn't it be better for such a viking to be put farther in the jail? Just to prepare for the worst, should he ever escape, it would be a lot harder to get past everyone." Dagur hated how the viking had a good point. Commonly, he would have arranged a new cell that was planted in the center of the prison, tucked under rocks and near magma; however, he really wanted to not have to go any deeper into the stockade than he needed. Regardless, paranoia overpowered his personal preferences and he acquiesced.

Ryker was being brought to a cell, deep within the prison walls. The farther they went, the darker it got and Dagur's eyes readjusted to what used to be their usual lighting. Listening, he heard the riders bump into each other a bit. "Stay close." he told. They complied and went in single file behind him-all except for the twins who kept falling over each other. While that was not out of the ordinary, Dagur knew that the prison had plenty of lethal objects that could maim you, on a fortunate day, should you find yourself on one. "Hey, twins how about you two stand guard at the entrance. Wouldn't want some hunter to sneak in and try to free Ryker." he suggested. Their faces could have lit up the hallways, "Why didn't we think of that?" Ruff pondered, aloud. "Poor friends, we shall ensure the security of this forsaken building." Tuff told, dramatically. They ran off, still bumping into one another, though not onto anything deadly.

The vikings went deeper into the dungeon and Dagur saw the form of a large prisoner. Taking a deep breath, he continued forward and opened a door. A hard shove sent Ryker into the cell and he slammed into the wall. "Finally came to visit me, huh?" a raspy voice asked, "Thought ya'd forgotten about little o' me." Dagur glanced in Alvin's direction. The man looked no different from the last time he had seen him and that was infuriating. _"Why doesn't he look beaten and worn?" _the Berserker wondered, feeling increasingly more angry with each moment. Rising from the ground, Alvin looked at the group and his eyes traced over Dagur's body. "Ya seem worse off than how I left ya. Of course, I never got to finish." he told, a creepy grin forming. The chief's hands balled into fists, but he did not lash out. Sanity was the preferred mental state for the Berkians to associate with him and what he wanted to do would not have fit along those lines.

Acting as though the Outcast were not there, the riders began their interrogations of Ryker. "Where is Viggo?" Hiccup asked. The hunter turned his head away from them, defiantly. The Berserker was about to dig a knife through his back when Alvin scoffed, "Dagur, who was more fun being around, me or them?" Dagur bit his lip and stayed silent. "I'm sure that it was me." Alvin figured, "After all, I didn't give ya that scar. Musta hurt, the way it was done. Nope, I'm a good prison keeper. Didn't do anything like that. Instead, all I wanted was-" "Shut up!" the Berserker bellowed, his hand back on a blade and ready to end Alvin. The older viking feigned shock, "What? You don't want me to tell them about-" Reaching through the bars, Dagur grabbed Alvin by the neck and pierced his flesh with the knife, "Times have changed, Al. **I'm **in charge, now." he snarled. A wonderful sensation went through the chief as he felt Alvin's life draining from him. "Dagur?" Hiccup called, hesitantly.

The concern in his friend's voice made Dagur stop choking the Outcast to death, "What?" The Berkian eyed the two vikings, "Would you mind waiting with the twins, until we get everything figured out down here? It's just that it could go faster without anybody getting choked." he told, trying to make it sound better. Dagur glanced at him and the others, dejectedly, "I guess." He wished to stay, though could not promise withstanding from inflicting pain onto one or both of the inmates. It was a highlight of the trip to do so and just asking questions seemed soft to him. Unhappily, the Berserker exited the prison and met up with the Thorstons. "The jail is secure, Dagur." Tuff informed him, standing at attention. The chief had almost forgotten what he had told them, nevertheless quickly recalled, "Good work, you two." Ruff nudged her brother's arm with a scroll and a gesture towards the Berserker.

Tuffnut caught her drift and brought out a scroll of his own, "Hey, mind if we ask some questions?" Dagur shrugged, "You can, but I can't promise answering them all." Undeterred, the siblings began, "If we were to run in a circle, would you find that strange?" Tuff inquired. The chief smirked, "Honestly, no." Speedily, the Berkian jotted down what he had said as Ruff asked the next one. "Now, if Hiccup or one of the other riders did that, would you find it strange?" Dagur thought for a moment, "I'd have to know the context. Snotlout's always running in circles, but that's because of his dragon." Ruff wrote down his statements, adding an occassional "yes" or "very good". While the initial inquirements were entertaining, as they continued, Dagur grew irate and found each new random question more foolish.

Tuffnut held up the scroll, "What color would you consider this?" The older viking threw his hands in the air, "What does **that **have to do with anything? Now to mention it, what dies **any **of this have to do with anything? What's this all about?" He crossed his arms over his chest, frowning. The twins looked at each other, suspiciously, "Oh nothing big. Just want to stay updated on your opinions, ol' friend." Tuff stated. A lack of believing could not have described Dagur's expression as he eyed the two. Thinking hard, his gaze saddened, although it returned to an even one, shortly. "Well, I'm going to go do some rounds throughout the island, while the rest are down there." he said, starting to walk away. Again, they printed what he said, only annoying him further. Dagur looked at various vikings and could see the reserve in their eyes. He pushed it out of his mind and thought of his friends talking to Ryker and Alvin. Being there had seemed terrible, but only guessing what was transpiring was far worse.

In the dungeon, the riders were trying, in futility, to get information out of Ryker. "You know that we're going to be a lot nicer than Dagur is. Just tell us what we want to know and he might go easier on you." Hiccup reasoned. The hunter glared at him, "I won't talk about my hunters, but maybe I **could **tell you what you want to know." A devilish smile was on his face. The riders peeked at each other, curiously, "What are you talking about?" Fishlegs asked, "We want to know about the hunters." Ryker shook his head, "Mildly, however ya **really **want to know about what happened to your friend during those three years." Eyes widening, they looked at one another again. "Come on." Ryker goaded, "You know, he'll never tell ya. The only way you're finding out is by asking Alvin and me." Fishlegs was unsure, "What good would it do to have them tell us that? They'll probably just lie, anyway and if Dagur won't tell us, it's because he doesn't want us to know."

Snotlout shoved Fishlegs, "Don't play by the book so much. I'm always up for a good story." The Ingerman frowned, "This isn't some folklore tale, Snotlout. This is our friend." Hiccup walked over to the two and put a hand on Fishlegs's shoulder, "Which is why I think we should try to find out what happened. We can take it all with a grain of barley." He turned to the hunter, "What went on during that time." Ryker leaned against a wall, "We kept him in a cell worse than this one. The weapons were stored underneath it, so they poked through the flooring." Already, the riders were cringing at the recount. "It was darker too. There weren't even the slightest traces of light throughout the entire prison." He grinned, sinisterly, "Didn't get any food or water until he was about to starve to death. I'm sure it would have helped him heal a lot better from my daily visits." Hiccup was practically afraid to ask further detail, "'Daily visits'?" Ryker nodded chuckling, "Every day, I'd go in his cell and put our weapons to some good use. Always nice to stay sharp."

"You don't seem the merciful type. Why did you want to keep him alive?" Hiccup inquired. That caused Ryker to scowl, "**I ****didn't **want him alive. You can thank my brother for that. He made sure that I never killed him-just made him wish that I had." His eyes twinkled, "It was funny because he'd never try to cry out in pain, but sometimes it just had to be let out." Ryker laughed and the Berkian heir set his jaw, trying not to become enraged, "Why is he hallucinating?" The hunter shrugged, "No clue." he lied, perfectly, "He seemed off from the start." Having been fearful of receiving that response, Hiccup changed the subject, "Why did your brother want him alive? Was it to get information out of him?" Ryker shook his head, "Nothing of the sort. He wants him broken." "Yeah, yeah," Alvin began, interrupting further questioning, "Ryker's done his fair share of things, but don't you want to know what happened **before **Dagur even got in the Grimborns' clutches?" Seeing their intrigued faces, Alvin smirked and commenced the tale.

When Dagur had finished his rounds, he returned to the Berkian twins and saw that the others were approaching too. His pulse sped up and he went over to them. "H-how'd it go?" he asked, awkwardly. The riders looked sad and horrified, so he received his answer. The chief tried to avoid what he knew they had heard, "I figured he wouldn't give much away about his brother. They're not as close as they want others to think, but he knows he's in for it either way, so there's no incentive to help." The first viking to find their words was Snotlout, "Alvin said some pretty creepy stuff about your time on his ship." Dagur's expression maintained its calmness, "Alvin says creepy stuff and lies all the time. What's new? Besides, why were you talking about me? We're supposed to be trying to stop the hunters." The Jorgenson was unsatisfied, "Sure, he lies a lot, but was he this time?" Dagur looked at him, exasperately, "Why **wouldn't **he be? Don't believe a word out of his mouth." Snotlout breathed a sigh of relief, "That's good because it'd be weird imagining **you** in that story of his."

Keeping a red tint off his cheeks, Dagur frowned at the Berkians, "Again, why were you talking about me?" Hiccup folded his arms over the front of him, "Because we knew that you'd never tell us." "Why should I? It's nothing worth mentioning. I was there, I came back here, now they're here. **Boom**. I've told you." he replied, smugly. "We can help you, Dagur." Fishlegs said, "You just have to let us." A strong sense of irriation, bordering on anger, entered Dagur, "I'm good, but thanks for the offer." he answered, bitterly. The cold tone made Fishlegs shrink, slightly, and the Berserker sighed, "If you want to help, let's find that auction of theirs. It would cripple Viggo and he's probably feeling different anyway because his last plan failed and Rykie's here." Resigning, Hiccup bobbed his head, "We'll try to question some hunters about that."

As the riders prepared to return to Berk, Hiccup went over to Dagur-who was sharpening one of his knives, "Hey, in regards to Ryker and Alvin...um, what are you planning on doing?" The chief kept tending to the blade, "Use this on them. Some other weapons too." he divulged. Hiccup looked disappointed, "You're really going to torture them?" Dagur glanced up from the knife, "Of course. What else would I be doing?" A frown blanketed his friend's face, "Showing them another way of life? One of peace." The chief scoffed and the heir continued, "Then, you'll be just as bad as they are." Anger flashed in the Berserker's eyes, "I'd never do what they did." Hiccup was unrelenting, "But, you're trying to. They tortured you, but you can't do the same to them." Hearing Hiccup say that, made Dagur turn red from fury and mortification, "They're my prisoners, **mine**, and I'll do with them what I darn well please!"

Hearing the confrontation, Astrid went over to the two and stood near Hiccup. Dagur, momentarily, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he had finished completing a mental chant, he reopened his eyes and smiled, "Let's not end this on such a sour note. Have a safe trip, Brother." he told. "Thanks." Hiccup replied, hesitantly. He and Astrid began to move towards their dragons and mounted the saddles. "We'll send word if we find out about the auctions." Hiccup promised. "As will I." the Berserker told. The vikings flew off towards Berk and Dagur went back to preparing his weapon. _"Keep your mind on **your** business, Hiccup, not mine." _Dagur thought, sharpening, furiously,_ "Ooh, Rykie and Al are going to have some fun today."_


	25. Satisfaction

Dagur went to his hut to grab an ax and returned to the prison cells. Tapping the blade in the palm of his hand, he eyed Ryker, "I don't like people telling my business." he told, menacingly. The hunter smirked at him, "We figured that they'd enjoy the stories. Especially Alvin's." The Berserker was a mere millisecond away from lopping off the man's head, but restrained himself and smiled, "Not the wisest thing to provoke the viking with the ax and no chains; however, I want you to tell me where the auction is and when it'll be." Ryker pretended as though he was thinking about it, "Ya know, I just don't recall. Maybe I'll be able to tell you when Valhalla starts inviting people like you." Dagur shook his head, scoldingly, "Now, Rykie. What good will it do you to **not **tell me? If you're holding on to some abstract hope, you might as well throw it away. Tides have turned." His eyes lit up, "And I know the best way to prove it."

The Berserker chief put the ax back in its holder, ignored the eyes he felt watching him, and unlocked the cell door. Walking in, he relocked the cell and received a wary look from Ryker. "What're you doing?" the hunter asked. Dagur put his hands on his hips, "Do I have to spell it out for you? Come on, Rykerman. You remember what's done to captives." he encouraged. The chief went to the inmate and toyed with the chains, moving the lock nearer to him. He took out the keys and before Ryker could ask what he was doing again, he spoke, "Unlike you, I don't need a prisoner to be chained up in order to win. That's cheating." Under his breath, he snarled, "I hate cheating." Dagur had not yet finished unlocking the chains when he stopped. Swiftly, the young man drew his ax and dug it into the hunter's wounded leg. Ryker cried out and Dagur beamed, "Almost forgot about that. **Now** we're even for this fight."

The Berserker resheathed his weapon and got into a fighting stance. His excited smile soon faded as Ryker leaned against a wall, in agony. "What? So you can't take a little pain, but you can dish it out? You're all battle-hardened and stuff. I had hoped that you'd be more durable." Dagur complained, crossing his arms amd scowling. He paused long enough to tap his chin, pensively, and sighed, "I guess, you **did **wait until the next day for a fight. Even though it was because you were busy and not because Ineeded it. **You**, on the other hand, seem to." The viking sucked his teeth, "So frail. No wonder the other hunters and Viggo won't miss you. You'd just be slowing them down, especially like this." A laugh rose from his throat and he locked the inmate and cell back up. "See ya in the morning, Rykie." he called, then looked at the lighting, "Of course, it's not like you'd know what time it was anyway."

Dagur still tried to pay no mind to the peepers that had been locked onto him as soon as he entered the jail; however, the mouth that came along with the eyes would not be disregarded. "Other than the gained injuries," Alvin started, "ya've matured, nicely, from the last time." He smirked, "Even got a little beard growin' in." Dagur stared at the Outcast for a few moments, trying to let the image of the prisoner-being just that-sink into his brain. It was a difficult task to accomplish. _"After I see him getting the same treatment as Ryker, it'll be easier." _he mused. The Berserker began to smile at the impending torture of Alvin. _"Who should get it first? Well, in line with the past, that would be Al. I'm sure he won't be so snarky after I run a blade through his gu-__" _"How's the lung? Still able to be active without breathing too much?" Alvin asked, interrupting Dagur's ponderings. He glowered at the prisoner, then smiled an unsettling grin, "I appreciate your concern. You'll be able to find out tomorrow." he promised.

Striding out of the prison, Dagur looked at the village which encompassed it. Night had fallen upon the place and the silence felt eerie rather than natural. From within a shadow, the young man thought that he had seen someone still awake. Somewhat leisurely, Dagur made his way over to the other viking, whose back was turned. "Don't want to waste time resting either, huh?" he asked, good-naturedly. The Berserker made a surprised gasp as the figure turned, glaring, "**That's **not so much the reason I'm here. Although, as far you know, I could be at **eternal** rest. Don't mind me, just away from my homeland and vikings. Without a care in the world. If I try hard enough, I might have even less cares for stresses than you do for **me**." Oswald said. Dagur closed his eyes, tightly, "I know that you aren't here, but I don't know where you are." He slapped his forehead, "Or why I'm still talking to you."

Oswald folded his arms over his chest, "You and I both know that you aren't fit to lead." This stirred Dagur's anger, "Really? You and I both knew that? Then why, might I ask, did you leave me to care for this **entire **island alone?!" he roared, "What we both **knew** was that I wasn't ready to have this position, then. It was especially helpful that you not only upped and left, but never offered me any advice on how to be in charge. So thanks for that." the Berserker added, sarcastically. The former chief remained quiet, with a blank expression. Annoyed, Dagur crossed his own arms, "Oh, so **now **you don't have anything to say. No unsatisfying answers or something else along those lines?" His father finally spoke again, "I can't answer any of that because **you **don't know." A cold look of disdain crossed the older man's face, "You can't even trust your own eyes anymore and you never could trust your mind. You're crashing down faster than you realize, Dagur." Oswald moved closer to his son's face, "Just make sure that you don't take my island down with you."

Glaring back, Dagur observed as the hallucination faded back into darkness. The Berserker walked back to his hut, limping more as no one was there to see him. When he reached the building and entered, it felt empty. As did he. He knew that Shattermaster needed rest, so Dagur attempted to push the lonely emotion far from him and distracted himself by sketching out and prepping the tortures that he would give to the prisoners the subsequent morning. This is how he spent the night and as dawn broke through the clouds, excitement filled even the marrow of his bones. After taking care of the last bits of preparation, the viking was so enthusiastic that he practically skipped back to the jail. Dagur entered the prison and went to the cells, a large bag over his shoulder and mug in his hand. He smiled brightly at the inmates and set the items down by Alvin's cell. Next, he unlocked the door and walked in. "Ready?" he asked the Outcast, excitedly as he started to unlock the chains that bound his wrists.

When he was finished, Dagur sent a punch into Alvin's face, knocking him back into the wall. Before the Outcast could get back onto his feet, properly, he was kicked in the stomach. Reeling forward brought him farther from the wall and the backs of his knees were kicked. More of this ensued and Dagur was eating it all up. This was what he needed. Anyone who could not see how weak Alvin was, was a fool. A threat was just about his literal antonym. When they reached the point that Alvin would die, if they continued, Dagur stopped. "It would be boring if you died so soon, Al." he commented, smiling, "Hey, did you get **any **hits in? If so, they were so light that I didn't even feel them." The prisoner snarled at him, "Is it really fair to fight someone who's been rotting in jail for three years?" Smile fading, Dagur spoke, "Yes, because mine were worse than yours here. I need to teach my Berserkers more ruthlessness."

"**Plus**," the chief proceeded, "is it fair to attack someone who might be mortally wounded? Are Outcast logics different?" Alvin simply glared more. "No need to be so glum. Look," Dagur said, grabbing the bag outside the cell and giggling, "I brought some gifts." The inmate watched skeptically as the Berserker began drawing out objects. "You have a new chain." Dagur informed, "Let's test it out." The viking attached the chains to the wall and locked them onto Alvin's wrists. The older man winced, "What kinda chains are these?" he inquired, painfully. Dagur grinned, "The kind that cut into your wrist **just **enough to make you almost bleed out, but also apply pressure to the wound to keep you alive." He positively beamed with satisfaction, "You should've seen the look on the welder's face when I asked for it!" Grabbing another item, Dagur hooked it onto the ceiling and tied it with a knot. "Now, what's **that**?" Alvin questioned. "A noose." the Berserker replied, "It's not as fancy as the chains, but I like the additions I gave it."

Having put the noose around Alvin's neck, Dagur stepped back to admire his handiwork. Immediately, the Outcast began fidgeting. "As you can tell, the neck part on the inside has been laced with poison oak. I couldn't get any fire fern in time, so you got lucky on that account." Luck was what Alvin felt he did **not **have, but he tried to not appear to be in as much misery as he was. "I'll leave you to your itching and bleeding for now, Ally. My other friend, I'm sure, is feeling neglected." As this was going on, Ryker observed in mild shock. He had underestimated the chief's vindictiveness and was not looking forward to his own "reward". Dagur unchained the hunter and smiled, "You saw the process." Ryker tried to be ready to move, however failed due to his injury and received a hard blow to the side of his head. The hit was so severe that, for a few moments, he could not see anything. Blindly, he swung punches and missed every one.

Dagur laughed at the spectacle and put the prisoner into a Berserker choke hold. Ryker, futilely, clawed at the arms to allow himself some oxygen. "I thought you **liked **chokes, Rykie. After all, you couldn't see a day go by without one occurring." The Berserker kept Ryker in the hold for some time until growing bored, then he kicked his fine leg out from underneath him. Being forced to stand on the wounded leg, the jailbird grunted in pain. Again, more of this and Dagur chained him back up. "I don't want to be redundant, so you won't get those chains." he assured. Despite the good news, the hunter did not fell more at ease. "Your chains have these latches on them that keep getting closer to the center, making them tighten and tighten. You won't have to worry about your wrists bleeding because there won't he any blood circulation. Well, you don't really need hands here, anyway." He cackled at Ryker's widening eyes.

The chief lifted the mug that he had brought and put it near Ryker's face. "Care for a drink? You didn't get any water since whatever time you did on the hunter ships." he asked. The convict turned his head, "I'm not drinking anything from you." he spat. Dagur shrugged, "Bold talk for someone who's only been held captive for a day. Whenever you're ready for it, let me know." The Berserker left to do his rounds for the island and saw that nothing was wrong. Some of the other Berserkers gave him wary looks again, though, and he pushed it away from his thoughts. That evening, Dagur returned to his hut. He smiled and sat down to a meal that he had prepared. The viking ate the food, _"Yep, this is success. Alvin is pathetic and so is Ryker. **I'****m** in charge of their lives, whether they last long or not. Everything's going great and it'll be even better when Rykie has to drink that water." _he chuckled and it lingered until it turned into an annoyed groan. _"What's the matter with me? I don't feel any better than when I was **imagining **torturing them. Maybe it'll change with time."_

Days flew by and the prisoners were looking like they were grasping for the last bits of life that they could take. Even with all the pain that they were enduring, Dagur did not feel joyful. It made no sense to him, but he would continue. _"It must be the Berserker blood. No matter what we do, if it's without our family, it just isn't the same."_ he thought one night. Another day came and as he dug a knife into Ryker's back, moving near the spine, the hunter could take no more. "Stop!" he shouted. The Berserker paused, "Because?" he dragged. "Because I'm going to tell you about the auctions. Viggo isn't helping me here, anyway." Dagur, carefully, took the blade out of his back and listened. Ryker told him everything that he knew about the auctions and the schedule that they followed-along with some other backup locations and dates. The chief nodded, impressed, "Good work, Rykie." he complimented. With a hoarse voice, Ryker spoke more, "I think that I **will **have that water-" he stopped, seeing Dagur motioning for him to continue, "Please." Ryker added, barely even able to say the word.

"How do I know that you're not lying?" Dagur inquired. "As much as sending you off to your doom would be great, if you survived, **this **is where you'd come back to immediately." Ryker divluged. The Berserker smirked and handed the prisoner the drink, since he was still unchained due to their "spar". Ryker downed the beverage in one gulp, looking very content. This did not last long, as his eyes went hazy and he stumbled back. Violent tremors shook his body and a painfilled grunt rose from his very core. _"And even better work, Strykie." _Dagur mused, _"Gotta love venom."_ He stayed to watch Ryker suffer, but ended up going back to the stables, shortly. The information that he had learned would have been best to have been delivered as soon as possible. The chief got onto Sleuther's back and took off for Dragon's Edge. One thing was on his mind for the duration of the flight and it gave him as much hope as it did stress.

The Edge came into their sights and the triple stryke and viking landed. The pair found Hiccup and the other riders doing some flight exercises, to their mild irritation. "So much for trying to learn info, huh, Strykie?" Dagur asked, quietly. Toothless sensed the newcomers first and did his little grin at them. The Berkians were fairly surprised to see the Berserker and the other Berserker just looked upset. "Dagur, what brings you here?" Hiccup asked. "And how did you get past my defences?" Astrid inquired, shocked. Dagur thought back to having seen some ballistas on the ledges of the island, "Um, I don't think they went off." he answered, shrugging, "But I came here to tell you about Ryker. He finally spilled the beans about the auctions." The riders looked ecstatic, except Heather. "And we know that this isn't some setup between you two **how**, exactly? We should have taken Ryker, ourselves." she stated.

Dagur's brow furrowed, slightly and Hiccup spoke first, "Heather, Dagur isn't conspiring against us." he defended. The heir rubbed his chin, thoughtfully, "I was thinking about what we could do to cripple Viggo." Curiosity peaked, the Berserker questioned, "What are you planning?" "I think that we can put Berk's gold up for auction and use that distraction to get in close. That way, we'll be able to find the dragons and free them." Dagur stared at him, blankly, for a moment, "Berk's gold? As in **all **of it? As in, the whole island'll be broke if this goes south?" Hiccup frowned, "Technically, but it's not going to go south." His friend was still doubtful, "I can't force you to change your mind, though I wish you would. I won't be there this time, so you guys really have to be ready." Heather's eyes gaped, "Woah, woah, woah. He's not even joining us? Could you scream 'trap' any louder?"

Sighing, Dagur said, "I'm not trying to set you all up. Hence me trying to make sure that you're careful. I just have an important thing to take care of." Heather was not satisfied with that, "Can't it wait?" she pressed. "It's waited too long already. If I wait any longer, it might be too late." Dagur informed her. Hiccup wanted to ask what his task was to be, however, could tell that Dagur was not going to say. "Well, good luck with whatever you're doing." he wished him. The chief returned the sentiment and the two groups flew off in their separate directions. The Berserker rider patted Strykie's head, "It's time, pal. Time to do something that I should've a long time ago: Find Oswald."


	26. Searches

Dagur and Strykie flew off for the islands that were near Berserker Island. They would start searching there and gradually move farther out. If Oswald had decided to stay on some land mass just off of their home, Dagur did not want to go past him. The dragon-rider duo perched on a ledge and the Berserker dismounted. "Let's see if we can find any trace of him, Strykie." The two scoured the entire island and found nothing other than a few Terrible Terrors. They left and continued to looking for the next few days, coming up with the same no matter where they went. Exasperated, Dagur crossed his arms, "He couldn't have just disappeared into thin air!" The viking paced back and forth, Sleuther moving his head left to right in order to follow him. "There's gotta be a better way to do this, Strykes. This, **clearly**, isn't working out." After a few more attempts to walk a trench into the ground, Dagur halted, "Maybe someone's seen him at a market. Why didn't I think of that earlier?" he asked, irritated with himself.

The Berserker leapt back onto the Sleuther's back and they headed off in the direction of the Northern Markets. When they reached their location, Dagur had the Triple Stryke stay hidden, to avoid any hunters seeing him. Having made sure that no one could view his dragon, Dagur made his way to the trading posts. One trader was looking bored, due to not having any customers yet, so the chief went over to her first. "Hello!" the vendor greeted, excitedly, "Care to test out some of my best maces?" Due to coming for business, the weapons could do nothing to catch the young chief's eye. "I actually wanted to know if you'd seen somebody I'm looking for." he mentioned. While visibly disappointed, the other viking was still hopeful, "Perhaps, but I am **certain **that one of my supplies could aid you in your search." Unravelling a scroll, the Berserker showed it to the trader, "Have you seen him around here?" She shook her head, "Can't say that I have. Sorry. Of course, I don't always pay attention to one-time buyers if they don't do anything weird. If I see them a lot, then I start to remember them. Like **those** people."

The trader pointed behind Dagur to a small group of people. All but one was dressed in black from head to toe. The one that was not appeared to be in charge and had a long ponytail. "Those are Defenders." Dagur was told. He turned back to the viking, "'Defenders'? Are they the security for this market?" The seller smiled, "They aren't security. **That **I'm sure of, but I couldn't tell you who or what they defend. Not too much is known about them. They just come in, buy some supplies, and leave. I've heard rumors that they're led by this ruler who's as tall as trees." she stated, eyes twinkling with imagination. Dagur thanked the lady for trying to help and went over to the other vikings. They were of little more assistance and he ended up leaving to go to the other markets. Neither the Northern nor Southern Markets had anything to offer, so the pair ventured to the Eastern. It was a stressful flight for them because that place was their last hope. Dagur had no idea where else they could go to get information on his father.

Within a few hours, the duo came to the Eastern Markets and landed. It did not look very different in contrast to the other markets, but Dagur hoped that it would have more knowledgeable vikings. He went up to a vendor and greeted him, "Could you tell me if you've seen this man or have heard anything about him?" The trader inspected the portrait closely, "I haven't seen him around here. I **h****ave **seen these magnificent mugs, though. I'm sure that a toast will be in order, whenever you find him, and only the best should be used." Dagur sighed, "I'll pass, but thanks." The Berserker went and spoke with a few more traders, increasingly growing more hopeless with each one. When he showed the portrait to another, it was of absolutely no surprise that they also had no idea who Oswald was. Just as the vendor was about to apologize for not being able to help, he stopped and looked through some of his supplies. Dagur's brow rose as the trader lifted up a book for him. "It was wrapped in seaweeds and leathers when I found saw it wash up on the shore." the viking divulged.

"I've been trying to make sense of it, but haven't found anyone willing to buy. Seems like trash to everybody." the trader stated. He handed it to Dagur and the Berserker flipped through some pages. Keeping his gaze cool, he looked back up at the vendor, "I think that I can find some use for it. How much are you asking? The other viking shrugged, "I'm getting tired of seeing it. Two copper pieces will be plenty." The transaction was made and Dagur returned to find Sleuther. The pair flew off and excitement bubbled in the young chief's stomach, "Strykie, this has my dad's writing in it. It's his journal!" Laughing triumphantly, he looked at the back of the book, then glanced at the start and middle. His smile promptly faded. Taking quick, deep breaths, he spoke, "He..put the...**whole **thing in a poem form! Who could understand what any of this means?! If it even means anything at all." In vain, Dagur tried to calm down. "Of **course**, he made it into a poem. Why would he make his 'find me' book comprehendable? That wouldn't be like Dad at all!" Realizing that attempting a lack of anger was pointless, the Berserker just let out a few roars and began reading the beginning of the journal.

The rational idea seemed to be them returning to Berserker Island. That way, Dagur and Sleuther could decipher where they needed to go. Despite this, the viking was hoping that he could just read through to the end and have them fly to wherever Oswald's last location was. He had no such luck, though and ran an annoyed hand through his hair, "You actually have to follow this things gradually. Y-you can't skip to the back. You literally have to figure out what the heck he was trying to say and where he was from the very start. Listen to this one, 'From my right, I am reminded of dreams I had as a child. The tranquil scene I've loved so much. These, Thor willing, will guide me to my next adventure.' That's the first part! This is going to be impossible!" Dagur had a steadfast look in his eyes, _"Remember why we're doing this.__ Come on. It's **more**_ _than worth it." _An island came up from their right and they landed on it, so Dagur could do more deciphering. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, tiredly, "Think like Oswald." he repeated over and over. "What place would have all these things he's mentioning?"

Pacing back and forth with the book in his hand, Dagur was wrecking his brain. More than anything, he knew that his father found silence to be the most serene. As much as the journal implied that he was loving where he was, that place must have been silent. The Berserker read that part again and a little before it. "Maybe 'from [his] right' is actually him looking from Berserker Island. Worth a try." he shrugged, "I think, I remember him looking that direction, dreamily." The pair set off for Eastern islands, arriving shortly. Dagur called out for Strykie to stop before they could land. "It's coated with Blue Oleander. That's why he remembers it being so quiet. No dragons could live here." The viking pointed to a ledge not far from there, for the dragon to rest upon. Once that was done, he began searching around the island and looking for any traces of the missing Berserker. Every cave was scoured for something that Oswald might have forgotten, however, Dagur could find none neither in a shelter nor out in the open. Within a few minutes, just about the entire island had been looked through and the viking read the next part of the journal again.

_"I just don't see anything that looks like his favorite club. How am I supposed to 'follow the evening sun over it'?"_ he wondered. The Berserker walked some more and finally came to the only place that he had not yet searched. It was the most serene place in the entire island. _"If this doesn't scream 'Oswald!', I don't know **what** does." _Dagur thought. He glanced about to find something resembling a club and felt his feet digging deeper into the ground. Instinctively, the viking reached out and grabbed hold of a tree trunk. This had opportune timing as almost suddenly, the quicksand began trapping Dagur up to his waist. Keeping himself above the ground with his right arm, he raised his left hand to his mouth for a whistle. Strykie heard the call and, carefully, flew towards it. As the Berserker waited, he saw that, from that angle, the trees looked like one of Oswald's old clubs. _"That must've been what he was talking about."_ he mused, smiling when he saw Sleuther coming near him. Utilizing his long tail, the Triple Stryke wrapped it around his rider-while still being far above any harmful plants.

"Thanks, Strykie." Dagur said, as he was put back on the saddle, "I found out what my dad meant and we need to head that way." The duo followed the upcoming sets of Oswald's "clues" and met danger after danger. On another island, they were being hunted by a flock of Changewings. Those dragons were relentless and even chased them after they were flying away. "What is **their** problem?" Dagur asked Sleuther, annoyed. A blast of acid whizzed past his head and a subsequent shot got on the Triple Stryke's back. After what had seemed like forever, the Berserker was getting fed up. "We don't have time for this." he grunted. The two tried to trick the other dragons into colliding with one another, but that plan did not work. Every escape and evade tactic, they had attempted. In a final, last ditch effort, Dagur did another whistle. This time, it was more like a dragon call and had an odd enough sound to. The Changewings tilted their heads, in confusion of what was making that sound and stopped their pursuit.

These sort of things continued and Dagur was beginning to think that the journal was less a way to find Oswald and more a way to die a miserable death. Each new danger infuriated Dagur, "He **really **couldn't have mentioned the collapsing cave?" he asked Strykie, "It's like he doesn't want to be found. If that's the case, why send this book out?" Flipping past pages only made him doubt what they should do. "Um, let's get you some rest. We can go to some **non** death-diary suggested island." They flew over seas for a nice amount of time until they saw a fleet of hunter ships. There were far too many to take on. Even indirectly could have proven hazardous as someone might have alerted the others. Still, Dagur wanted to go down, but looked at his friend beneath him and settled for sneaking around. Gold and jewels filled each ship to the top. A sense of dread filled the Berserker when he recalled the auction. _"Great." _he thought, grimly,_ "Even if they didn't lose everything, their plan clearly didn't work."_ Dagur took some mental notes of the hunters' faces and, speedily, the pair swooped down, snatching one up.

A blade to the hunter's throat kept him from calling for aid. The man trembled against its cool metal and looked into the Berserker's ruthless eyes. "An event occurred at your last auction. I see that you earned a lot, but any new gold in particular?" Dagur interrogated. The hunter gulped, "Th-the Berkians tried to trick us, b-but Viggo tricked **them**." The chief cursed, "So, you have the Berkian gold?" He received a nod in response and bit his lip. His frown transformed into a twisted smile, "You wouldn't happen to know where Viggo keeps his gold, would you?" This made the dangling man shake more, "I promise, I don't. He moves it around all the time. I-I really don't know where it is." Dagur stared into his frightened eyes and saw sincerity in what he had stated. He sighed, "Too bad." A quick slash drained the hunter of his life and he was dropped into the sea. Strykie, knowingly, started to change his course. "It's been weeks since they went to that auction. They don't have any money for purchases, so that means they're relying solely on commerce. If I know anything about Viggo, he either **has **already ruined the traders' routes to Berk or is setting that plan in motion."

Dagur and Sleuther returned to Berserker Island and the chief began arranging ships to be stocked with supplies. Soon, he was not required to be there to supervise and the viking let the others tend to matters. While this was going on, Dagur went to the prison and walked up to Ryker's cell. He unlocked the door and put an ax to the side of Ryker's head, "Since you worked closest with Viggo, you should know where he keeps his gold. Where is that?" The hunter smirked, "No idea. As much as he moved it, even **I **never was able to keep track. Only those who have recently transported his gold know where it's stored." The younger viking glared and was disappointed to see that he too was telling the truth. After sending a nice kick into Ryker's side,

as a parting gift, Dagur left the jail and checked on how things were going with the ships. "Everything is loaded and ready, Chief." Captain Vorg told him. "Good. We can set sail now, then. Everyone!" the leader called, "Set your courses for Berk."

Later that day, some Berserker ships pulled into the Berkian shore. As they descended from the vessels, the vikings could see the sorry state of the people. The Berkians were hunger-stricken and pitiful. Their dull eyes brightened at the sight of the food brought for them. A thousand "Thank you"s were given to the Berserkers as they passed out water, food, clothes, et al. It hurt Dagur's heart to see his allies like that. In a way, he considered them to be an extension of his own tribe. Sure, one that he did not have jurisdiction over, but one that he would do as much for as he could. Happy cheers alerted Stoick and Gobber to the visiting vikings and their faces lit up as well. "Thank you, Dagur." Stoick said, sincerely. The Berserker smiled, "Don't mention it. This is what allies are for." More items were passed around while the three vikings spoke. "How long have the trading routes been targeted?" Dagur inquired. "It feels like it happened as soon as we lost the gold." Gobber told him. "Do you know how the hunters are doing it yet?" the Berserker chief asked.

Stoick nodded, "Some sea dragon that they captured. Hiccup and the others are trying to take care of that now, but I'd be lying if I said that we didn't need food. Even with the routes open, it'll still take a while to convince traders to come and even longer for food to arrive." Dagur shook his head, disgusted, "It takes a certain kind of punk to go after their enemy indirectly like this. Did Hiccup tell you how Viggo's brother is in our custody?" he inquired of them, grinning. The Berkians glanced at each other, "Yeah, he told us about that." Gobber said. The trio helped make sure that everyone had had something that they could eat and it was done by the time the dragon riders approached. Though returning the greeting smiles of most of the riders, Dagur diverted his eyes from those of his sister. Even as her friends thanked him for helping, Heather did nothing beyond glare. The Berserker chief tried to ignore her harsh stares and focused on the matter at hand, "From your smiles, I deduce that you were able to free that one sea dragon?" Hiccup beamed, "It was **not **an easy task, but we were able to do it. And something more too." Dagur's brow rose, "What's more?" The riders gave knowing grins to each other before the heir spoke again, "We interrogated a hunter and found out where Viggo's gold is kept."


	27. Lost and Found

Dagur eyed Hiccup, skeptically, "Do you know if the hunter had just delivered gold before telling you where it was?" The Berkian seemed nonchalant, "I don't know if they just moved some, but we can still check out where he told us." He pulled put a map and studied it closesly. "From what he said, it looks like the island that has the gold is right...here." Hiccup said, pointing to an island that was to the west of Dragon's Edge. Astrid got back onto Stormfly's saddle, "All right. Let's head over there, then." The other dragon riders mounted their reptiles and Dagur called for Sleuther to fly over. "We'll come with you." he stated. The Berkians gave small nods and Heather made a quiet grunt, an irritated expression still being on her face. They took off for this unknown island with hopes and suspicions in the minds of the vikings.

During the flight, Hiccup could feel the disapppointment emanating off of his friend and tried to divert thoughts from their previous failure with the auction. "Hey, how'd your mission go?" he inquired. Dagur shrugged, "Nothing too good yet, but I'm hoping that'll change soon." A memory tugged at Hiccup's mind, "You know, you never did mention what this mission is." he mentioned, as casually as he could. The Berserker smirked, "Nice try, Brother, but I'm aware of that." Toothless uttered a quiet noise and Hiccup patted his head, "With our help, you could get more accomplished faster." Dagur's smirk began to fade, "I appreciate the offer, but I need to do this with Strykie." A slight frown went over Hiccup's face, _"Why is he so determined to keep this a secret?" _he wondered. Even though he wanted to press the matter, the Berkian decided that he would let it go. After all, considering **his **last way of handling a mission, he was far from the appropriate one to chastise Dagur.

As their expedition came to a close, the vikings saw an island in the horizon. "That must be it." Hiccup pointed out. "What's your plan for this?" Dagur asked the heir. "We land and start searching." he replied. Sighing, heavily, the chief rolled his eyes, "Okay, well I'm going to circle the island while you do that." The twins made faces, "Why fly around the island? All the cool stuff's going to be **on **the land." Tuffnut mentioned. "Just want to make sure that it's not a trap or anything. I'm still not sure if that hunter gave you the right information." Dagur answered. When he finished, he saw the Thorstons writing down something in a scroll. He squinted to see what it was, but could not make it out. "We'll check it out down there and let you know what we've found." Hiccup told Dagur. The Berserker rapped his fingers on Sleuther's saddle, pensively, "There's more than the problem of hunters showing up. We don't know anything about this island, so there could be just as much danger from whoever lives here."

"Do you think that half an hour will be enough before I come to check in on you?" Dagur inquired, staring at an object. He was trying to decipher whether or not it was a giant Night Fury juggling axes. Snotlout heaved a large sigh, "And maybe you can feed us our meals too." he said, sarcastically, "And whatare you looking at?" The Berserker blinked a few times and shook his head, "Nevermind that last part." He cleared his throat, "It's just a precautionary measure." Fishlegs looked open to the idea, "It never hurts to be a little wary." he noted. This earned him a mild scowl from Heather, making him shrink. Again, Snotlout sighed, "But it **does **hurt to have more than one Fishlegs. Looks like **I'll **have to be the adventurous one." The Jorgenson puffed hinself up as far as he could go before popping. "Oh, gods." Hiccup murmured, "That sounds like a plan, Dagur. We'll see you in a bit." The riders flew downwards, Heather giving the chief a deathglare as she passed him. Once they were there, Dagur and Sleuther began to do their rounds.

While flying around, Dagur's eyes shifted to and fro. Everything looked as though it were real and yet common sense informed him of his mistake. _"No, there's not really a Scauldron doing cartwheels."_ he scolded hinself. Giving Sleuther a tender pat on the head, the chief spoke to him, "Strykie, I'm going to need you to let me know what's real and what's not. Daddy's mind isn't doing too well right now." The Triple Stryke made a noise of comprehension and they kept flying. At every new supposed anomaly, Dagur watched Sleuther for any sign of being on the defensive. While this was going on, the riders had begun their scouring of the island. They split into groups, in hopes of finding something in a speedier fashion. "Ugh!" Snotlout groaned, frowning, "This is taking forever, Hooky. I bet the others have already found the gold and are just letting you and me continue this wild yak chase." Hookfang shook his head, amusedly, at his rider and followed behind him. The viking leapt over some bushes and yelped. Hearing that and a subsequent thud, Hookfang rushed over, but could find no trace of the viking and only of some delicious looking fruit.

Since hearing Snotlout yelp was nothing to blink twice about, Sleuther initially took no real notice. That was until he heard more yelps and suspicious sounds. Dagur observed how the dragon had tensed up and did so himself as well. "What is it?" he asked. Sleuther flew around the island once more and stopped, facing out towards the sea. Dagur squinted to see what he was look at and Strykie went closer. In the distance, a fleet of hunter ships were approaching the island. They moved so quickly that waves were hardly able to form. The Berserker cursed, "Let's tell the others." The two sped through the island and could not find the Berkians in the forest. _"We **could **go further into the island and hope that we find them in time, but those ships are covering too much ground and might reach the land."_ Dagur thought. "Let's try to fend them off." he told Sleuther. They flew back to the seas and were glad that they had. In that span of time, the ships were already about to dock. One ship, in particular, was very large and looked impenetrable.

A few blasts proved that hypothesis to be correct. To best utilize his firepower, Sleuther shot the smaller ships. Some were sunk, but the large one still pressed on and docked on the shore. A massive amount of hunters piled out of the vessel and Sleuther sent some blasts their way. Swooping down, he picked up one viking in each of his tails and flung them into three more. This was followed by shooting the hunter piles and leaving them as bonfires. Even with this strategy, there were too many to stop. Every time Dagur thought about jumping off of Sleuther's back to stop more hunters, he caught an arrow before it could hit the Triple Stryke. The hunters would have to be stopped in another way. Dagur would not endanger the life of his friend if he could find a different plan. A main issue of his was that not only were the hunters a problem, but also whatever was keeping the Berkians at bay. Dagur needed to make sure that Sleuther still had some blasts left for any possible follow up attack. While his own blades would have been readily used before, he still found it challenging to decipher reality from delusion. Thusly, they were not used as much as he would have liked.

Slowly, the hunters were picked off, although they were able to make their way up through the island. Dagur could not help but notice that they seemed to not be laying siege. They knew exactly where they were going and had a plan in mind, though he wished that he knew it also. Shields defended the hunters from the onslaught of blasts and their quick movements made it difficult for them to be carried away. They trekked along what looked like a mountain with a tiny, dark speck. The farther they went, the more a small, black dot appeared to be an opening. Soon, Dagur realized that it was not a mountain at all. It was a volcano. The remaining eight hunters went by the volcano, bows ready. When Dagur and Strykie entered, they saw a large dragon chowing down on the volcano's lava. The hunters were aiming their arrows at it and Dagur threw a blade into three of them, leaving only four. Given the tight space of the volcano, the vikings were not privy to as much maneuvering as before and Sleuther took short care of them.

With the last thud of the hunters falling, more vikings entered. These, however, were not hunters and consisted of the dragon riders and some other vikings in black garments. Dagur tapped his chin for a moment, then snapped his fingers with a wide smile on his face, "You're Defenders." he stated. The vikings were mildly taken aback by the recognition. "Yes, we are." a tall, blonde woman said, almost suspiciously. She stared at Dagur, warily, though the look faded into one of being impressed once she saw the hunters sprawled across the floor. "I was positive that Viggo Grimborn would have planned something like this." she said. A grateful smile engulfed her face as she regarded Dagur the next time, "I am Queen Mala of the Defenders of the Wing." The Berserker smiled back, "I'm Dagur the Deranged...from the Berserkers." he added, unsure if it were always customary to add your place of residency or not. "He's with us." Hiccup informed the queen. She kept her focus on the chief, "On behalf of my island, I thank you for stopping the hunters from capturing our Great Protector." Dagur eyed her, curiously, "'Great Protector'? Oh, because it eats the lava?" Mala nodded, "Yes, without her, our entire island would be melted and destroyed by this volcano."

The Defender queen paused slightly, "You have saved all of our lives." Once this was stated, the other Defenders gave bows to the chief. "Now, while the lava **is **managed. The fumes are not most suitable to be inhaled by humans." Mala said, gesturing towards the exit. The vikings left the volcano and an odd sound caught Dagur's attention. Abruptly, he moved his hand near Mala, invoking her to get into a defensive stance. At a second glance, she saw that he had caught an arrow in mid air that was aimed for her throat. She smiled again and rushed off in the direction of the arrow. Sounds of shuffling ensued and the queen returned with her sword pressed into the back of a hunter. The other Defenders took the lifeless body away, oblivious to the disturbed looks they were receiving from the Berkians and the approving smile from the Berserker. Mala ran a hand over the edge of her hair, "Would you like to see the island?" she asked Dagur. Tuffnut jumped in, "Yeah, it'd be cool to see it as a visitor and not a prisoner." The queen led the way, staying near the Berserker chief's side.

The group was shown around the island and saw all the dragon-healing stations that the Defenders had. After a little while, they came up to a statue of the Great Protector. "What kind of dragon is your Great Protector? I've never seen one before." Fishlegs asked. "An Eruptodon." Mala answered, "We aid many various dragons, but the Eruptodon is one by whom **we **are aided." Dagur turned to her, "So, you'd be able to recognize a lot of different dragons?" The queen nodded, "Quite a few." With that information, the Berserker pulled out the journal and flipped to the back, showing it to her. "Do you know what kind of dragon this is?" Mala examined it closely, but shook her head, "I am sorry to say that I do not." The twins scoffed, "Well then, that's easily rectified." Ruff began. Her brother concluded the suggestion, "**Don't** say it." Mala looked at them and then at the other riders, in askance. When she received nonchalant shrugs from the rest, the Defender glanced back at Dagur. His face was clouded over with disappointment. "Perhaps, I can glean more knowledge by what is said in the book." Mala offered. Shrugging, the chief handed it to her.

Mala read over the jargon and her eyes widened, surprised. "Do you know what he's talk about?" Dagur inquired. Mildly dumbfounded, Mala nodded, "He is describing a place called 'Vanaheim'. In our culture, we believe that it is where elderly dragons go until they transition into the afterlife." She still looked shocked, "It seems that whoever wrote this, has somehow been there." Gradually, a wide smile covered Dagur's face, "Do you know where Vanaheim is?" Biting her lip, Mala and Throk shared a look. After a pause, she nodded again, "Yes, we do." Somehow, the chief's smile got even wider, "Could you tell me where it is?" Throk appeared as though he had seen a ghost, "I apologize, Dagur the Deranged, but such information cannot be disclosed. It has always been a sacred place for the dragons." Despite feeling a growing sense of annoyance, Dagur tried to stay respectful to their culture, "Okay, but I can make sure that no one is tampering with anything on Vanaheim, if I go there and bring him back."

Throk looked torn on what to do, but Mala interjected, "You have saved not only my life twice, but the lives of my people. The least that I can do is aid you in retrieving this viking." Still, Throk was upset about the decision, although he had to admit that he owed his life to the Berserker. Resignfully, he went to get a map. When he returned, the guard handed the map to Dagur. "Thanks. I promise that I won't be telling anyone else about this place." the chief swore. This comforted Throk, slightly. Dagur said a few more quick thanks and leapt onto Sleuther's back. The other vikings did not even have enough time to register what was happening before he was off. Time seemed to fly by and drag on, all at the same time, as they flew for Vanaheim. "Do you think that he's actually there, Strykie? Just think about it. We might finally have found something useful in this journal." After some more time, Dagur saw the island and they went past the same statues that Oswald had illustrated. The Berserker chuckled, "Did he really start sculpting while he was here?" Dagur looked at some pages in the journal and it said nothing special about them.

Once landed, the pair began their search for the missing Berserker again. For the millionth time, it seemed like they would come up with only nothingness. The most they saw were these weird looking dragons with twisted horns. "You've got to be kidding me! This journal's led us to **another **dead end?" Dagur exclaimed, leaning against a rock wall. He frowned at the unidentified dragons as they flew by. "They don't even look old." he noted, grumpily. Right when the flock was about to zoom over top, one caught sight of the two. It snarled and Dagur returned the growl. Next, it opened its mouth and spat teeth at the Berserker. He rolled out of the way, "Look out, Sleuther!" Dagur called. The Triple Stryke heeded the warning and maneuvered, shooting a blast into one. The dragons scattered and flew off. "Guess they look that way 'cause they **aren't **old." Dagur shook his head, "Well, at least while we're here, we should try to keep them from killing all the others. Nothing like preying on a retirement group."

The dragon-rider duo followed after the hunters, taking out a few. "Fast little things, aren't they." Dagur mentioned, irritated. One was tiring and the Berserker shot it out the sky with a blade. Suddenly, Dagur called for Sleuther to stop. The dragon did, but had no understanding of why. When he looked around, the reason was made clear. A giant skeleton that Dagur had seen in the journal was to their right. "We have to see what's through there." the Berserker stated. They went over to it and through the body, then out to a different part of the island. A bit more walking let them see a hut. Dagur dismounted Sleuther's saddle and stared at it. It had clearly been made as a shelter as opposed to a formal building. He came a little closer and saw that the door had been made by the wood of a Berserker ship. "So, w-we found something. Maybe even him. He's definitely been here. Um, that means that I just have to go up and go in. Sounds easy enough." With inordinately small steps, he made his way over to the hut. _"Just...a **few more **steps."_ he thought, straining.

After an eternity, Dagur had reached the door. He placed his hand on it and a terrible tremor wrecked his body. Quick, deep breaths started and the viking heard someone. It was the sound of the dragon riders landing nearby him. "Wh-what are you guys d-doing here?" Dagur asked, embarrassing himself with his stammering. "They gave us another map to make sure that everything went all right." Hiccup told him. The Berkian eyed the hut, "Why aren't you entering?" Dagur looked at the doorway, pitifully. "Is it because you're afraid of what will happen if he's alive?" Hiccup questioned. Caught off guard, the Berserker glanced back at him, "How did you know that I'm looking for him?" Shrugging, the heir responded, "It was the only thing that made sense with how secretive and obsessive you've been acting over this mission." Dagur rubbed the back of his neck, "Oh, I thought that I was being more discreet. I guess, I should just go in, huh?" Hiccup looked thoughtful, "No actually."

That surpised Dagur even more, "I **shouldn't**?" Hiccup shook his head, "You shouldn't. I mean, how much did he really even care about Heather? You clearly didn't think that he did. That's why you sent her adrift in the first place, right? And if he doesn't care about her, there's no reaon to find him because you **know **that he doesn't care about you. If anything, he'd probably be ashamed. After all, he's finally gotten to be away from you and it might be ruined if you go in there." Dagur looked at his friend with a hurt expression. He began to scowl, "You're an illusion. Hiccup wouldn't say that. None of my friends would." A cruel laugh emitted from the Berkians. "'Friend'? Is that what you think we are?" Fishlegs asked, harshly. Dagur kept his face cold and unreadable, "Yes and no. **You **are not my friends, but the real ones care about me." Snotlout chuckled, "From what you know and have seen, I'd think that the **last **thing you'd consider us to be are 'friends'." he said, making the last word sound very mocking. Dagur turned his head, "I'm not listening to any of you. I'm going in there and coming out with my father."

Dagur blocked out more hurtful jeers and comments from the vikings. Pushing through a final shake, Dagur pushed open the hut's door. Looking around, he saw something from his peripheral vision that horrified him. Closing his eyes tightly, the Berserker tried to make the illusion go away. When he opened them again, the sight was still there. He felt a pit form in his stomach and a lump in his throat. Down at his feet, the decaying corpse of Oswald the Agreeable laid. Dagur stumbled out of the hut to get some fresh air. Of everything that he could be thought to be, he was **not **weak-stomached. Queasiness was an unusual feeling for him and it was coupled with guilt. "How'd I just leave him out here?" Dagur moaned, "Who knows if either illnesses or starvation killed Dad." Strykie went by Dagur to provide comfort. The dragon nuzzled his head against his friend and made low cooing noises. Abruptly, he entered the hut and sniffed around. Standing on his hind legs, Strykie pulled down a cart filled with some scrolls. Dagur tilted his head and bent down to see what they were.

Upon doing this, Dagur saw some fruit recipes and a scroll with Heather's name on it. A small smile crossed his face, "At least we can have something to give Heather." He looked around the hut for a bit and stepped outside to prepare a proper grave for his father. Once he was done, the Berserker eyed the hut again. "Would you mind if we stayed here for a little bit longer, Buddy? I'm not ready to leave, yet." Sleuther nuzzled him again and gave a near smile. "Okay, looks like for a few weeks, we'll be here and then we leave to bring Heather her scroll."


	28. Vikingsitting

Dagur reentered the hut and looked over the writings on the wall. "So those shifty things are 'Grim Gnashers', Strykie." he stated. He began to laugh, happily, "And Dad used to fight them off." The Berserker stared at some of the words with a confused expression, "Okay...he's calling those statues 'Sentinels', but the problem is that they aren't actually statues. He said that they're dragons too." Dagur made a face, "Who'd want to just sit still all day? And if they're supposed to protect the island, why aren't they going after the Grim Gnashers?" A light lit up in his eyes, "Maybe they haven't seen them try to kill anybody yet. As soon as they do, they'll send them packing." Again, he went to look at the wall, attempting to gain more knowledge on the reptiles. "Here's something useful. Dad said that they move around at night to keep everything tidy." Stroking his scraggly beard, the viking thought aloud, "If we do a mild stakeout, we'll see when the Sentinels start flying. All we'd need is a way to get the Gnashers over there."

With an apologetic look, Dagur turned to Sleuther, "I might need you to be bait, Strykie." The Triple Stryke slumped to the ground, upset. "Don't worry. I'll skewer them before they can do anything to you, but I just don't know how else to make sure that the Gnashers come. Plus, it would be more risky to actually bring an old or sick dragon in the line of fire." Feeling better about it, Strykie rose back up and had a determined look in his eyes. "Thanks, Pal." Dagur grinned petting the dragon's head. That night, the two stayed outside and Sleuther played up being wounded very well. As the dragon dramatically fell to his back in slow motion, Dagur had to restrain his laughter. Instead of bursting out in cackles, he pretended to be asleep. Time went by and the Berserker fought boredom. After what seemed like an eternity, the two finally saw some Sentinels moving. Dagur did not yet dare to rise from the ground and continued to wait for the Grim Gnashers to arrive. About fifteen minutes passed before the predatory reptiles approached what they thought to be an injured Sleuther.

The Grim Gnashers stalked forward towards the Triple Stryke and Dagur noticed that none of the Sentinels even fidgeted. The Gnashers were quiet, but if he could see the sinister expressions on their faces, surely the dragons should. _"Come on!" _he thought, as he watched them get closer to Sleuther. One was baring its fangs and was about to dig them into Sleuther's left leg when Dagur threw a blade into the dragon's neck. It made a gurgling sound and caught a Sentinel's attention. The stony dragon went over to the group and sniffed the dead Gnasher. Raising its head upwards, it snarled at Dagur. Right as it looked up, the Berserker saw that its irises were white. The chief glanced at the other dragons and it started to make sense. _"That's why they haven't seen the Grimmies going after anybody. Still, too bad that they didn't notice any of the other dragons' cries." _he mused. By this point, Sleuther had risen and was at his friend's side. "We didn't attack one of your ailing residents." Dagur defended to the Sentinels, "They've been trying to eat the others." The Sentinels seemed unaffected by what he said.

Dagur rubbed the back of his neck, "Great. **These** dragons don't understand me. Or at least don't want to." he grumbled. Exasperated, Dagur saw some Gnashers flying towards an elderly Deadly Nadder. The poor dragon roared in horror as it saw its attackers. "You have to hear that! If you trust me for a second, you'll figure out that the same dragons you're trying to protect are in danger." Hesitantly, the Sentinels tilted their heads to listen and realized that the roars were those of distress. Taking off, they went to stop the proactive scavengers. Dagur leapt onto Sleuther's back and helped them chase the group away. It was a lot easier with the Sentinels' aid. Once the Grim Gnashers had fled, the Sentinels turned their attention back to the dragon-rider pair. They flew to several trees and returned, placing some fruit at Dagur's and Sleuther's feet. The Berserker smiled and handed them to Strykie, "Thanks." he told the Sentinels. Satisfied, the guards returned to their stations and went to their stonelike stages again.

A couple of weeks passed and Dagur had found many of his father's recipes for the island's special kind of fruit. They were a week into the Midnight sun, so it was the perfect time for going back to Berserker Island and then Berk. He needed to make sure that his people were not killing each other due to sleep deprivation and the same went for the Berkians. After things were back to normal, Dagur could give Heather the letter. It was his and Sleuther's last night there and Dagur ran a hand over the wall. Sighing deeply, he looked around the hut. A part of the Berserker wished that he had found something left for him, but he had already doubted that before he had even arrived. Dagur put the recipe scrolls in a sack and finished looking through the rest of the crates. With widened eyes, he saw a Dragon Eye lens. _"Hey, looks like Dear ol, Dad had another lens."_ The chief thought, then slapped his forehead, _"And Heather's got one too. I've got to remember to tell her that."_ His face clouded over, _"I also forgot that Ansson has **mine**."_ A devilish smile crept over his face, _"Seems like I'll just have to get it back."_

The next morning-so to speak, Dagur was not really sure what time it was since the sun had not gone down-the two set off for home. They came up to the island in a few hours and saw that it was in an all right state. Even though Dagur stood out a lot from other Berserkers, they were all odd enough to hardly be affected by the Midnight Sun. Work carried on almost as usual. The vikings were only mildly fatigued and just yawned a good deal. Dagur eyed everything and decided that he could leave and not return to a burning pile of land. The chief went to the docks and saw Ansson trying to get that "Thunderfish" of his. Dagur cleared his throat, loudly. "Back already?" Ansson questioned, grumpily. Still, Dagur had to smirk at how he knew better than to add on his customary nickname for him. "I just remembered my lens that you stole. I want it back." the chief stated. Ansson crossed his arms, "Too bad. If ya want it, ya got to help me catch the Thunderfish." Dagur rolled his eyes and went over to him, "I'm not helping you find your imaginary friend. In fact, I'm not even **asking **for it."

Dagur pulled out one of his knives and inspected the blade, stroking it, "I know that you know where it is, so hand it over. It would be a lot easier than getting fed to piranhas." The older Berserker swallowed hard and started to pulled the lens out of his pocket. Dagur gave a smug smile as he took it, "See? Told you it would be easier." Triumphantly, the chief went back to his own hut to collect a few things and got went to check on his dragons. "How are you two holding up without sleep?" he asked them. Shattermaster and Bluebolt nuzzled their heads against his hands, happily. Dagur refocused on Sleuther, "How're you feeling, Strykie? Up for another flight or do you want to wait?" The Triple Stryke flew upwards and did a series of flips. "All right." Dagur laughed, "I'll take that as a 'Good to go'." He waved goodbye to the Gronckle and Skrill before they set off for the Hairy Hooligan's island. The two landed and were immediately glad that they had come. Vikings were bumping into each other and swatting at air. A couple were even fighting with fish. It was an odd sight, but Dagur would be fabricating if he said that it was not amusing.

Since no one was around, Dagur and Sleuther went to the training arena. On the way, they saw a viking about to eat an ax. Quickly, Dagur stopped him and moved it out of his reach. The two kept going, but made sure to keep an eye out for any situation similar to that. They finally reached the arena and saw the riders trying to wash their dragons. Dagur turned slightly to find Astrid doing twirls and singing. It was weird to see her being so carefree, but she was undoubtedly happy and that made the Berserker smile. He heard some sobbing and saw Snotlout hugging Hookfang for comfort. Before Dagur could wonder what was wrong, the Berkian began to get angry. "You, sir, are not a very good consoler!" he accused the Monstrous the Nightmare. As abruptly as he turned furious, Snotlout smiled dreamily at Astrid, "Such happiness. If only we all could experience it." And again, he started crying. Dagur spotted Heather and knew that she was exhausted by the shere fact that she had not noticed his presence yet. She was tripping over own feet and everything in sight. The reluctant Berserker was about to fall face first into a pile of weapons before Dagur caught her.

"Thanks." Heather said, prior to realizing who had helped her. Once she had, she pushed him away, "Get away from me." the viking glared. Fishlegs poked his head over his cleaning supplies, his eyes shiftily looking about, "Are you two conspiring against us?" he asked the siblings. Heather appeared stunned, "What? Of course not!" Clumsily, she returned to Windshear, who was sadly looking at Dagur and Sleuther. "Why are you even here?" Heather asked, coldly. "To **conspire**!" Fishlegs replied. The chief rubbed the bridge of his nose, "No, not to conspire. I came to help you guys." The Ingerman kept staring at him, "What makes you think that we need help? Do we look like we need help?" Dagur chuckled, "Kind of." he admitted. "They are more than a little...off, mon frère." Tuffnut stated. Ruff tsked, "The sleep deprivation is hitting them hard, but do you know why **we **aren't being affected?" she asked the Berserker. He grinned, "Why?" The twins puffed up, "Our Thorston constitution!" they declared, proudly. "We can go months probably." Ruffnut told. Tuff flicked his wrist, "Easy! **Years** is more like it." His sister frowned, "Did I say 'months', I meant **decades**!" "Centuries!" her brother fired back.

Once they had gone for a few yells longer, they huffed and looked at Dagur again. "Hey, why aren't **you **acting differently?" Tuff asked. The Berserker smirked, "It's never affected me." Ruffnut straightened her back and spoke in an exaggeratedly proper voice, "Ah, it makes perfect sense, Brother, that one with a natural insanity would not be prone to behave any more crazily than they usually do." Tuff nodded, "Quite true, Sister Nut." Quickly, they jotted more notes down. Dagur frowned moderately at what they had said and at the fact that they were writing things down again. "Where's Hiccup?" the chief asked them, "Is he as bad as they are?" The Thorstons shook their heads, "Not as bad, but not that good either. He's talking to Stoick at the Great Hall." Tuff told, beginning a staring contest with Ruff. Knowing that they would not have paid attention to any further statement, Dagur went to go find the skinny Berkian. The twins were correct and Dagur found Hiccup arguing with his father. "I just don't see how this is a bad idea." the heir said, crossing his arms. When he saw the Berserker, he looked more resolute, "Good, Dagur, you can agree with me."

"You've been searching for Thor knows what for a while now and keep trying to stop Viggo. Do you think that I should **not **go after the hunters and instead stay here to wait for their next attack?" Hiccup questioned. Dagur looked the Berkian over, "Well, it's the second week of the Midnight Sun. You probably should wait until you've gotten some sleep." His friend frowned, "You're one to talk. When's the last time that **you** got some rest?" The young chief eyed him blandly, "That's irrelevant. I never said to be like me." He could see that Hiccup was making up his mind to go anyway. "Hiccup, it's going to be a lot more difficult for Toothless to fight hunters **and** keep you safe if you're not at your peak." Dagur told. Hiccup was not listening and went outside with his regretful Night Fury. With a groan, Dagur followed him. "I'm trying to keep you guys from dying during this week. Can't you wait until it's over and you've gone to sleep?" he inquired, annoyed. "No, that's more time wasted." Hiccup stated, getting onto Toothless's saddle. The Berserker sighed, "I don't want you two to be out there alone, but I'm not leaving here." "I don't want you to come with me, but why not?" the heir asked. "Heather." Dagur replied, "She nearly face planted into some axes and stuff earlier. I'm staying to help my sister and the others."

"Then, that's great." Hiccup told him, "You can stay here while Toothless and I leave." Shaking his head, Dagur patted the Night Fury on the head, "Good luck, T." he wished. The two took off and the Berserker walked back to the training arena. Things looked even worse and Sleuther was trying to comfort the irritated dragons. Hookfang was glaring at his emotional wreck of a rider, Meatlug appeared to be sad with Fishlegs's paranoia, Windshear kept attempting to help Heather stand properly, and Stormfly looked annoyed with how bubbly Astrid was. The only dragons that were amused by it all were Barf and Belch. "You know." Dagur started, "You could clean them. You aren't tired, after all." he told the twins. They glanced at each other and burst out laughing, "We find ceaning to be overrated." Tuffnut said, in between chuckles. "That explains a lot." Dagur realized, under his breath. The Berserker tried to see if there were a chance **any **of the dragons could be cleaned and the answer seemed to be "no".

What he needed was a dark place where the Berkians could be stored to pass out in. The reptiles fervently aided in the search and eventually found the latch to a lower compartment in the arena. With protests ranging from nonexistent to untrusting shrieks, the dragon riders were tossed inside the space. "The latch isn't tight enough to keep air out, right?" Dagur mildly asked Sleuther. The dragon sniffed it and wagged his tail. Over some more time, Dagur started to notice that the twins were having some difficulties. They began arguing about fruit bats and why it was the wrong season to see them. In all honestly, it was only slightly different from how things normally were, apart from a few exhaustion-caused hallucinations. About an hour later, though, they were full on sleep deprived and having heated discussions with no one. "Oh? So you think that I **shouldn't** jump off the side of the island? Well, I disagree! I'll learn to swim on the way down." Tuffnut huffed at the air, beginning to run out of the arena.

Taken off guard, Dagur had to go get him. The chief caught the Berkian right as he jumped, slinging him over his shoulder. "Hey!" Tuff complained, wiggling, "I was about to show him." Dagur ignored the viking and brought him back to the arena. When they got there, he tossed Tuffnut inside the compartment with the others. "You say that Tuff failed? **I **can try, then." Ruffnut recommended, also conversing with nothingness. Before she could jump too, Dagur scooped the Thorston up and added her to the pile. The Berserker sighed and leaned against the wall. Right as he did, Toothless and Hiccup flew in. Hearing the snores from under the floor, Toothless went over to it and nudged it open, then proceeded to fling Hiccup inside. Dagur laughed at the display and left the arena to see if any other Berkians were about to accidentally die.

Luckily, the rest of the Berkians were not nearly as bad as the riders, so the Midnight Sun concluded without any casualities. Once the vikings were back to their normal selves, Dagur told Hiccup about the lens that he had. "Heather has one too. I need to tell her about it...and something else too." he stated. The viking left and dared to knock on her door. He did not expect it to go well, but felt like she deserved to know the truth. She answered and her face scrunched into a scowl, "Why are you even still here?" she questioned. Nervously, Dagur pulled the scroll from behind him. He fumbled with it for a moment and bit his lip, "Um, you have a Dragon Eye lens." he said, quietly. Her eyes widened, "What?" "On your belt. Funny. I never noticed it." he told, tilting his head to see. Heather took the lens, "I've got to tell Hiccup." she said, starting to push past him. Awkwardly, Dagur continued, "I've already told him, but there's another thing that I want to let **you** know." Heather kept walking, "I don't want to hear it." "It's about our father." the Berserker blurted out.

Heather stopped in her tracks, hands balled into fists, "What **about** him?" she inquired, through clenched teeth. "He left to go on adventures. I didn't kill him." Dagur admitted. Heather spun to face him, "And why should I believe you?" The older viking handed her the letter, "I've been looking for him and found where he had been. That's where I've been going off to." His eyes showed sadness, "He **is **still gone, though. He died on Vanaheim." Heather eyed him suspiciously and unraveled her note. She read it then looked back up at the chief. "I can't be sure if this is real or not." she stated. Dagur's face had hopefulness in it, "I still have the map, so I can take you there. There are some dragons that might need to remember me in order to let you come and go." He held out the map and showed her. Heather folded the map back up, "I'm not going anywhere with you. I'll go to Vanaheim by myself." She went to the stables and Dagur glumly looked around Berk. They needed to get their gold back. Though Berserker Island had many resources, they would not forever if they had to split it amongst two islands. He saw another task ahead of him, but warmly welcomed the distraction.


	29. A Golden Life

After several weeks of hunter hunting, Dagur and Sleuther had finally found a hunter that they could squeeze the information out of-and quite literally as the chief utilized a Berserker choke hold. He was a viking that nearly made Hiccup look muscular. Still, it had taken them longer than expected to find someone who could provide the information. The chief felt entirely responsible and bad for the duration of the trip, though. At every other turn, Dagur swore that he was witnessing the Berkian riders being captured and slaughtered by some hunter fleets. The uncertainty of what he kept seeing was not aided by how the Triple Stryke had to be on alert, anyway, to spot hunters. Any mild ear twitch that Sleuther did, made his friend draw some knives and ready himself for attacks. More than once, Dagur heard the dragon grunt at him, in frustration. "Sorry, Strykie." he apologized, again. The Berserker rubbed the bridge of his nose, "At least we're not far from Dragon's Edge. You know the rest of the way, right?" he inquired. Sleuther gave a knowing roar and sped up as his rider shut his eyes, preventing anymore false visions to deceive him.

Dagur did not reopen his eyes until he felt Sleuther land. Then, he dismounted and nuzzled the Triple Stryke's head against his own. "Great job, little buddy." The two walked towards the main part of the island and saw the vikings doing drills. After seeing the visitors, Toothless and Hiccup flew over to them. "Hey." the Berkian smiled. Dagur smiled back, "I've got some good news for you." Hiccup's brow rose, "What is it?" The older viking's grin grew wider as he divulged, "We found out where Viggo's gold is hidden. And among that would be..." he trailed off, letting his friend finish. "Ours!" the heir exclaimed, happily. "How'd you find the right hunter?" Dagur shrugged, "It wasn't too hard. The funny thing was that the one who knew was like a twig. It was kind of pitiful, but almost reminded of-" The other viking began to frown and his friend stopped, "Anyway, I don't discriminate and got rid of him too." Not noticing Hiccup's look of disturbance, Dagur brought a hand to the side of his mouth and semi-whispered, "The trick is to make them think that they **won't **die if they tell you, but then you still kill them to eliminate any loose ends." he finished, chuckling. The Berkian was at a temporary loss for words and cleared his throat, "Um, let's go tell the others." he suggested.

The four told the location to the others, who were thrilled. "Two quick questions." Dagur started, "Have you all found any dirt on Viggo that we could couple this blow with?" Hiccup bit his lip, "Not exactly." "Well, I'm sure that you've learned **something**...haven't you?" the Berserker asked, feeling less hopeful about the impending response than when he started out. Tuffnut flicked his wrist, "We haven't had time. What with our cousin, Gruffnut, coming. You'd be surprised how many things can clog up a day. I mean, what are we going to do? Just schedule everything around our search for the hunters? Ha! Not on your life!" Besides his sister, the rest of the team looked less than thrilled that Tuffnut had admitted their lack of trying to recover the gold. Dagur's not so restrained look of disappointment did not help either. "The other question was if Heather had gone to Vanaheim, since she's not here." Hiccup's head bobbed, "Yeah, she went a little after we last saw you." The Berserker's expression was unreadable, but wiped it off his face and replaced it with one of positivity, "Let's go before Viggo decides to transport it again."

The team flew off, being led by Dagur and Sleuther. They arrived on an island and looked around. From the looks of it, the only things that were on that island were themselves and ruins. "Yeah, sure looks like a lot of gold here." Snotlout snarked. The Berserker was still determined, "Given how terrified as the hunter was, I don't think that he would've lied about this. As far as he knew, I would have just found him again to kill him, if he had told me the wrong place." Some whispering sounded and Dagur turned, pulling out a knife. Instinctively, the other vikings got into defensive stances. "What happened?" Hiccup asked. The chief looked at him, "Didn't you hear that?" The Berkians shook their heads and Dagur made a low groan, then resolutely got onto Sleuther's saddle. "We're going to do a quick fly around the island to see if anyone's here." he told, also seeing that Snotlout was rolling his eyes. "You're being too paranoid. There's no way Viggo's worried about someone finding his special, broken buildings." Fishlegs appeared to be in agreement, "He might have a point. Nothing valuable seems to be here, Dagur. I doubt that Viggo would waste having any of his men on this island when they could be out capturing more dragons."

Dagur eyed the Berkian and, despite not glaring or anything, noted that Fishlegs had clammed up. "It won't hurt either way." the Berserker stated, taking off with the Triple Stryke. Once in the air, he frowned, "I am **not **being too paranoid. Us looking won't seem like such an insane notion when we find some hunters." They zipped past ruins and more ruins, but no hunters. "Maybe those ruins are something." Dagur thought, aloud. There was only a small amount of ground to cover before they were done and, to their lack of surpise, some Dragon Hunters had docked at the shore. _"Who could have seen **that **coming?"_ Dagur mused, sarcastically. He toyed with the idea of going down to attack a few himself, but knew that the others needed to be aware of the danger they were in. Along the way back, he thought, _"That proves it. There **h****as **to be something of value on this island. Like Fishy said, Viggo wouldn't just send out hunters for the heck of it."_ The chief and reptile found the other riders, just in the nick of time as the hunters were stalking them from behind. Before one could fire his aimed arrow, Dagur put a knife in the back of his neck. The hunter fell, dead and toppled forward, surprising the riders.

Sleuther stung several hunters with his one of his tails, killing them upon conact. A smug smile found its way to Dagur's face as he turned from the dead hunters to the Berkians. "More are probably out there." Hiccup said, getting onto Toothless's back. The team split up to stop the hunters and each found a few. Quickly, the hunters were defeated, with the ones gone after by the riders incapacitated, while the other ones that were pursued by Dagur got killed. He giggled with each kill and every time, it sounded more maniacal. His last kill of the afternoon, a particularly unfortunate hunter, had tried to sneak up on the riders when they thought all the foes had been vanquished. The hunter was stung by Strykie's tremor-causing tail and got his arms and one leg lopped off. The Berserker chief laughed like a madman at him attempting to balance as he shook. With uncomfortable glances, the Berkians observed the Berserker's clear delight in the hunter's agony. Astrid had Stormfly move closer to Hiccup and Toothless, as her fingers caressed her weapon's handle. "Since the hunters being here is an obvious indicator of something of value being here too, we should keep searching around. If we're lucky, they **might** have really been trying to secure the gold's secret location." Hiccup suggested.

The group walked around the island again, finding dilapidated structures once more. Dagur looked at them and ran a hand over their surfaces. They felt different from how most building materials were. They even distinguished themselves from the hunters' dragon proof materials. The Berserker put his eye close to one, inspecting every speck. Stepping back, he folded his arms and noticed some tracks. They had been made by wheelbarrows and looked heaviest where the buildings were, then lighter as they lead away. _"Why would they **build ****ruins**?"_ Dagur pondered, "Strykie, mind blasting this?" he asked. Though not knowing the reason for the request, the Triple Stryke complied and blasted one of the buildings. As the smoke from the shot began to wane, a deep yellow shone through. Excitedly, Dagur and Sleuther went to each ruin and fired at it. The same thing occurred at every one. Cheering, the chief hurried over to the others. "It's the ruins." Dagur told them, enthusiastically. They looked doubtful, "The gold is?" Hiccup questioned. The Berserker took his arm and brought him to one of the exposed establishments. "See?" he proclaimed, proudly, "That's why the hunters were trying to protect an otherwise useless island."

Berkian and Berserker ships came with wheelbarrows and zealous vikings. Within little to no time, all of Berk's gold was back with its rightful owners and the rest of Viggo's found a new home in Berserker Island. The riders (including Dagur) flew back to The Edge. The chief was going to let Sleuther rest for a little bit. The dragon had done an extraneous amount of flying and had been a trooper through it all. "We have enough huts." Hiccup mentioned, walking over to Dagur who had sharpened six knives and counting, "That way, Sleuther will be ready for your trip back. He's a strong dragon, but even the best of them need sleep and a chance to let their wings not work." The Berserker thought about it and grinned, "Sounds like a fine idea to me." Hiccup smiled and squinted at the sky past Dagur. Following his gaze, the chief saw Heather and Windshear flying in. The duo landed on The Edge and the Berserker could see that she was holding the map to Vanaheim. Heather noticed Dagur and marched up to him, roughly handing him back the map. "We need to talk." she declared, eyes blazing, furiously. Dagur nodded and followed the viking into her hut.

Heather took a short breath, "I know that you didn't kill Dad." she said. Dagur smiled, hopefully, but his sister's subsequent glare made him change his mind. "Why lie? Why say something so terrible as you killing your own, loving parent?" she asked. The elder Berserker leaned against a wall, "When he left, I had to take over as chief and I lacked the respect of the people. Since he had vanished and I couldn't figure out how else to get them to listen to me, I just let them think that I had killed him. Technically, I never said that I did, but everyone assumed so." Heather eyed him, curiously, "Why did they automatically think that? Wouldn't him leaving be more probable?" Dagur rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly, "Well, yes, but I've always been a little-" "Crazy?" Heather chimed in. The chief grimaced at the word and did a quick chant in his head to calm down, "Violent." he corrected, "That along with Dad and my relationship-which was pretty bad-made them think that it wasn't too unbelievable." Heather set her jaw, "Was your bad relationship the reason that you never looked for him until recently." Dagur shook his head, "He had told me not to and not to tell anyone what he was doing. During that time, I was just trying to make sure the island didn't implode and afterwards, I was a bit tied up for three years."

The chief chuckled, morbidly, at his words and looked at the younger Berserker. "Why search now? It's not like he could have told you that he wanted to be found all of a sudden." she commented, "Did you just decide that you didn't like the responsibility of leadership?" Dagur glanced at her with a sad smile, "Actually, I was trying to find him for you." Heather's eyes opened wide in shock. "I know how it feels to not have your family around and was hoping that when reunited, you two could form a nice bond." This was where he lost her. "If you wanted me to have a nice bond with my father, why did you send me adrift?" she interrogated, voice raising with her increasing anger. Dagur diverted his eyes from hers, "I can't tell you." "Why not? Was Dad showing too much favoritism to a child with**out **problems for your liking, so you had to get rid of me?" Heather pressed. Her words cut deeper than she realized, but Dagur kept his face the same, "Like I said, I can't say. It wasn't done for the reason you've suggested, though. I'll tell you that." Annoyed, Heather went over to her door and opened it, "When you're ready to tell me why I was forced to live without my birth parents, come back, but until then, get out."

Dagur looked at the viking for a moment and left. Once he had gone far enough away, Heather exited the hut and went to the stables. Also there, Hiccup and Toothless saw her deeply furrowed brows. "What's wrong?" the heir asked. Heather sighed, "Dagur didn't kill Oswald." Her friend looked surprised, "Really? I was hoping that he hadn't." Hiccup smiled, but it faded, "Then why are you upset?" Heather got onto Windshear's back, "Because he's still dead and he wouldn't have been if Dagur had gone against his wishes to look for him sooner." She and the Razor Whip did a flip in the air and ended with Windshear's tail cutting a board in half. "He claimed that he was doing that for **me**. That he wanted me to have a good relationship with my dad, but that doesn't even make sense with what he's done. Why send someone adrift just so that they can spend time with the person they're already living with?" she asked, irritated. Hiccup shrugged, "Did you ask him?" "Of course!" Heather exclaimed, "He said that he couldn't tell me! That sounds like he knows he had no good reason. I can't think of any that would make it so that he should have done it." The viking did more training and Hiccup watched, thinking hard about what to do.

Late that night, when the Edge was silent, Dagur went to stand by the coast. The waves crashed into each other and provided a refreshing mist that splattered upon his face. The Berserker rubbed his temples, exhaustedly. He could no longer keep track of how many days he had gone without getting rest. A few footsteps came closer to Dagur, but he kept his back turned, only sending a quick wave. "Hey." he greeted, quietly. Hiccup was coming over to him and stood by his side. "Why are you still up?" Dagur inquired. The heir smirked, "I could ask you the same, but I think that I know the answer. You clearly have a lot on your mind and a lot of things that you want to say. How about you just let it out?" The Berserker squinted at him, "Are you even here right now?" he asked, doubtfully. Hiccup shook his head, "No, but if you won't tell your friends, you can tell me." Dagur chuckled, "I appreciate your honesty. What I want to talk about** are**my friends." He grunted and ran a hand through his messy hair. "There's no point in saying anything, though. After all, you're not even here." The chief tilted his head, "I'll admit that it's getting more realistic. Great." he added, sarcastically. "Who are you talking to?" a voice inquired.

Dagur blinked a few times and saw Hiccup again, but he seemed like the real one. "Ar-are you really here?" he asked, almost whispering. His friend raised a brow, "What?" The chief shook his head, slightly, "Nothing. Um, it's kind of late. What's keeping you awake?" Hiccup stood in the same place that faux Hiccup had, "I've been trying to figure out Viggo's next move. You'd be surprised how late I've been up doing that." The Berkian listened to the sounds of the peaceful waves, "Are you feeling all right?" The other viking gave a solemn nod, "Just..tired." "Heather told me some of what happened. Why didn't **you**?" Dagur breathed, heavily, "I didn't want anybody to know. I was still so new with leading that if anyone thought we were vulnerable, they might have attacked. Not that I thought you all would have, but you might have let it slip to some other vikings." Hiccup's face saddened, "It must have been difficult to have to take over like that." The Berserker kept his eyes on the sea, "It was far from one of the least stressful things I've had to do." There was still something that lingered in the back of Hiccup's mind, "Why won't you tell Heather why you sent her adrift?" Dagur frowned, "It won't do her any good to learn it." The Berkian was not going to give up this time, "Then tell **me**. Come on, Dagur, it doesn't make sense that Heather being away from Berserker Island could be in her best interest."

Hiccup thought of how to provoke Dagur into telling. "The only reason I can think of for why you don't want to say, would be because you **did **do it with malintent." he stated. The Berserker knew what he was doing, but was beginning to care less. "Whatever was in that letter he wrote her, made her love him. How could I ruin that by saying I sent her adrift due to him not being protective enough? She almost got hurt by Ansson and would have, if she had stayed. Given my winning record against him, I didn't want to risk her safety by hoping something I could protect her alone. I mentioned it to Dad, but he couldn't see Ansson as anything beyond a great example for all Berserkers. Even if he had found out later that I was correct, it might have been too late." Dagur stared at the sea and thought that he saw Shattermaster being harpooned by a hunter. His heart tugged and he looked away. "Not real; not real." he repeated. Hiccup looked conufused, "What's going on, Dagur? Why do you keep acting like there are things everywhere trying to get us? Each time I turn around, you're staring at nothing like it's about to kill somebody. You can tell us. We're your friends." the Berkian said, voice gentle.

Dagur scoffed, "**Your**friends." Hiccup eyed him, "What are you talking about?" The chief started to pace, "They aren't my friends, Hiccup. I want them to be, but they aren't." "And how aren't they?" the heir asked, indignantly. The chief folded his arms over his chest, "We can start with the twins. They study me like I'm some sort of experiment. After almost every sentence of mine, they jot it down." Hiccup started to protest, but had noticed them doing it as well. "Snotlout thinks I'm too paranoid and not adventurous enough like I used to be; Astrid's worried that I'm going to freak out and hurt you-she keeps inching closer to you whenever I do something that's different; and Fishlegs is afraid of me." the Berserker finished. That one, Hiccup strove to refute, "Fishlegs is **not **afraid of you. He's just kind of scared of everything." Dagur rolled his eyes, "Don't act like he's not, now. You know he is and even tried to use it to your advantage." Hiccup's eyes widened, "When?" "When he thought that he was Thor Bonecrusher. He told me later that you all knew the only way to snap him out of it was if he was terrified and what did you do? You really wanted me to be around him all day. I scare him, concern Astrid, bore Snotlout, and intrigue Ruff and Tuff."

Hiccup was speechless for a few moments. He finally found his words and spoke, "Whether you believe it or not, they're your friends too. We all are here for you if you need us." A nerve was struck with that and Dagur turned, furious, "You know what, Hiccup? There was a time when that help would have been really appreciated. A time when even being killed would have been appreciated, but where were any of you? Hm? You weren't there when I needed you, so don't try to claim you'll be when I don't." He faced Hiccup and the moon shone on him, illuminating what the heir was previously unable to see, due to the darkness. The Berserker looked differently from how he used to. Hiccup saw that this time. It was more than just scars, a beard, or shorter hair. Dagur looked exhausted, worn out, and, for once in his life, broken. There was no fire in his eyes or even a disturbed twinkle. In place of those, came depression. It hurt Hiccup to see his friend in such a way, but he did not know what else to do. He started to walk away, "If you ever want to talk..." he began. Dagur only turned back around to face the water again. Oh, how those waves crashed upon the rocks, destroying anything and everything in their path. That was more peaceful and worthy of hope than any other thing in the chief's life. "Goodnight, Dagur." Hiccup told, dejectedly. The Berserker stayed facing the sea, "Goodnight, Hiccup."


	30. More Than Before

Dagur and Sleuther returned to Berserker Island, observing its people. While the chief was glad that they were able to help the Berkians, he was relieved that his vikings' resources could now stay with them. The fact that the Hairy Hooligan Tribe barely tried to regain the gold that they lost also made him want to take his back sooner. So much was in Dagur's mind and very little of it was good. Sure, he had said what had been on his mind to Hiccup, but he did not feel the slightest bit better. If anything, he almost felt worse. At least when he was keeping everything to himself, the cards were on his own table. Now, he kept thinking that it would be awkward the next time he saw the Dragon Riders. Whether it would be or not, it was highly unlikely that he would see any improvement from the last time. With the Berkians' odd feelings for him on his mind, he continued to notice that his own Berserkers still were giving him wary glances. It annoyed him to the point of wanting to snap at them, although he was aware that it would only exacerbate the issue. Instead, the Berserker chief tried to find ways to distract himself. Training with his dragons helped a little, but not as much as he hoped. Heather popped up in his head more than she was invited and Dagur felt more depressed with each visit.

He was starting to give up on the idea of he and his sister being a family. She hated him and there was nothing he could do to change that-apart from ruining her opinion of their deceased father. Rather than continue to semi-wallow in misery, Dagur remembered Caldera Cay. _"I never thanked them for the map and, come to think of it, they probably want that back."_ he thought. The chief stopped sharpening his knife to go to the stables. He was swarmed by the excited Skrill, Gronckle, and Triple Stryke, being nearly knocked to the ground by them in their playful tackles. Once they stopped, the viking got up. "Strykie, I forgot about going back to the Defenders of the Wing Island. We need to head over there. Are you up for it?" Since the dragon was, Dagur mounted his saddle and they flew off towards the other island. It took them only a little while to reach Caldera Cay and they landed nearby the village. Defenders were standing guard, letting the chief see as their countenances changed from suspicious and ready to attack to recognizing and inviting. "Hello, Dagur the Deranged." Throk greeted, stepping to the forefront. The Berserker gave a nod and smile, "I wanted to return this map and thank all of you for letting me use it."

The Defender gladly accepted the scroll and Dagur started to leave. "Could you stay for a while? Our queen would like to speak with you." Throk informed him. The chief's brow rose, "Do you know what about?" He received a shaking head as an answer and agreed to follow Throk over to see Queen Mala. The ruler was sitting on her throne, speaking to a few Defenders that appeared to be asking favors/questions of her. She looked to be entirely bored with their constant inquirings, though still was polite to her vikings and did her best to be engaging. The Defender's face brightened as she saw the visitor and she rose to stand. "It is good to see you again, Dagur the Deranged." the queen told. "Same goes for you, Mala." Dagur said, "Throk told me that you wanted to talk about something." The queen looked hesitant for an instant, then it vanished amongst blinks, "Yes, I like to understand the mentalities of my fellow leaders, so I would appreciate it if you and I could speak about our opinions of leading a kingdom. We could walk around more of this one while we converse." The chief thought it over, briefly, "Sure, doesn't sound like it'll do any harm." He followed the Defender and started to stroll along the land.

"Would you ever find it necessary to leave your island, permanently?" Mala asked. Dagur was by her side and sort of shrugged, "I hope not **permanently**, but I've left my vikings for a while in order to keep someone safe. Besides something drastic, I don't think anything could keep me from there for too long." The queen seemed intrigued by the answer and it invoked a follow up question. "What is the longest that you have been away from your people?" she inquired. "Three years." Dagur stated, "But that was during the whole 'keeping someone safe' thing. What about you? Have you ever been gone for a while or would you?" Mala pursed her lips together in thought, "I have never strayed from Caldera Cay for very a very long duration, but, I suppose, I would if the situation warranted such an act." The queen looked behind her to the Triple Stryke that was trailing them. "While I know that Hiccup Haddock claimed the dragons enjoy flying you about, might I inquire as to if you know why? It seems peculiar that anyone would cherish having to carry someone around whenever and to wherever that person pleases." Smirking, the chief replied, "We don't make it like an act of servitude. As for my dragons and I, we've found common enemies and common friends. Kind of a symbiotic relationship. They know that I'll try to make sure no hunter or anyone else goes after them and they, in return, help me protect my vikings and go find more hunters to stop. They're more my friends than pets, honestly."

A small smile tickled at the corners of Mala's mouth, then her brows rose, "You pluralized. What other dragons do you have?" More than a small smile went over Dagur's face as he started talking about his companions, "There's Bluebolt, he's a Skrill and the first dragon I'd ever befriended, and Shattermaster, a Gronckle and the first dragon I've ever **ridden**." He gestured back to the Triple Stryke, "He's Sleuther, but is normally called 'Strykie'." The dragon lowered his head to be pet and Mala complied. "I guess, you've never ridden on a dragon before, huh?" Dagur commented. Shaking her head, the Defender continued to pat Sleuther, "I have not." The chief noticed that Strykie seemed to be taking a liking to the queen and a thought popped into his head. "Would you like to? We could do a quick flight around the island and land back here?" he offered. Mala's mouth opened slightly to speak and her eyes twinkled. Quickly afterwards, the sparkle dimmed and she closed her mouth, "Defenders have never flown on dragons. We have always been protectors of them, not riders." The Berserker shrugged, "All right, but if you ever change your mind, just let me know." Dagur looked at her and saw her reluctance to deny the opportunity. "Maybe I'm wrong, but you sort of look like you want to."

Mala looked at the vast skies and imagined herself beyond among the clouds. "While the prospect is enticing, I should not go against traditions." She tried to appear more positive and glanced at her guest. "Do you believe in traditions and prophecies?" she asked. Dagur oscillated his hand front to back, "Not really the prophecy part, but I've used some signs before. As for the traditions, It depends on what they are." The queen eyed him, curiously, "Do you have any traditions on Berserker Island?" Nodding, the viking responded, "A few." He moved the same hand to his eye and other arm, "That's why I have these tattoos. It's always been tradition that the chief or chieftess in the bloodline get them before becoming leader." Mala looked at the markings and her eyes lingered on the one on his arm. "What about you?" Dagur questioned, snapping her back into reality. A light dust of pink faded over her cheeks, "Yes. The reason that the warriors and guards dress in the way that they do it to be as inconspicuous as possible and able to blend in. It has been a tradition of ours for longer than I have been alive." Mala ran a mildly self-conscious hand across the edge of her short hair, "As I am sure you have noticed, we Defenders often utilize functionality in the place of vanity."

Dagur looked around at the vikings, "It's a smart idea to stay discreet." Glancing at the queen, he added, "Personally, I really like the look." Mala smiled, "Would you care to go with me as I make sure the trainees are coming along well?" The chief was up for the venture and the two went to see the vikings. An older Defender was instructing them on how to spar with one another, properly. "Spars always seem great. Do you get to do many?" Dagur inquired of the queen. Mala shook her head, somewhat solemnly, "Many of my Defenders find that it would be far too disrespectful to ever even **spar **with a viking of royal blood. When I have the time, I train with faux humans. What of you, Dagur the Deranged?" The Berserker was still watching the people go. They fought relentlessly against each other and yet, they knew just when to stop and were very good sports about victory and failure. "I wouldn't really consider myself as having done a spar, per se, but I've always wanted to fight someone when you're both friends." Another twinkle shone in Mala's eyes and she walked to a vacant location on the training grounds. Once where she wanted to be, the Defender set up some dummies and weapons. All the while, Dagur was observing, rather curiously, her antics.

"What are you doing?" he finally asked, unwilling to take the suspense longer. Mala had just completed and turned to him. "Since neither you nor I have been able to spar against one of our subjects, perhaps we could spar against each other." she told. Dagur was about to agree and go over there, but stopped. From the corner of his eye, the viking saw a Speed Stinger that was lit aflame, running in a circle. _"I'm not in the right mindframe for a fight that **won't **end in someone dying. I don't want to accidentally hurt her."_ he thought, sadly. "It's kind of getting late, Strykie and I should probably head back." Dagur stated. _"There. As soon as we're gone, they're most likely be glad to get rid of us and this question'll never be brought up again."_ Despite wanting the musings to make him feel positive, a large part of him wished to stay and learn more about Mala. Thusly, he loathed the idea of never being invited again. Disappointment was on the queen's face, though she ended up hiding it well. "Let it not be said that we have kept you here against your will." she told, not unkindly, "I have enjoyed your visit, Dagur the Deranged. Please, do come again sometime soon." Dagur felt an odd twinge of excitement in his chest and he grinned, broadly, "Would next week work?" Mala smiled, surprised, "Um, yes, that would be very nice."

All the way to Sleuther's saddle and up in the air, Dagur had wide, happy grin on his face. As soon as they were almost a mile from Caldera Cay, the chief slapped his palm against his forehead. "Why did I suggest coming back?! Who knows how bad the hallucinations will be by next week? I might not be seeing **anything **that's real." He let out a groan of annoyance. Throughout the flight back, he thought of different explanations he could give to rationalize his lack of returning to Defenders of the Wing Island. None of them seemed right. "I don't have a good reason not to go-you know, besides telling her that I'm seeing things." He rubbed a hand over his face, "Definitely don't want to say that, but I don't want to lie either." Just as the Berserker and Triple Stryke landed in the Berserker stables, Dagur had made up his mind. "I brought it up, so I'll go. **Next **time, though, I probably won't." While he was not sure if he had seen it correctly, Dagur was fairly positive that Sleuther had rolled his eyes. "I'll have to make sure that we don't do any sparring. Wouldn't want to imagine Mala as a hunter and then attack her." A nearly dreamy expression went over his face, "However, it sure would be nice to spar against her. That was cool the way she took out those hunters." Sleuther yawned and began nudging Dagur out of the stables. "Fine; fine. Good night, guys." the Berserker waved.

Over the next week, before their inevitable return, Dagur was getting fed up with a lot of his Berserkers. Everywhere he went, they were keeping an eye on him as if he would attack them as soon as they turned their backs. Only the eldest and youngest vikings trusted him. This was due to the former having been around long enough to know what** is** and is **not **a threat, and the latter having not been around long enough to develop paranoia. Either way, Dagur found himself enjoying checking in on the elders and children to make sure that everything was all right. Their trust was beginning to grow into liking as they watched the sincerity of his actions. Still, with so many others, Dagur could not wait to go to Caldera Cay once more. After one of his visits with an elderly couple, whose daughter and son had perished in battle, Dagur walked around for a bit. Mainly, the chief was trying to find a peaceful place to think and meditate. Such a place came in the form of a cave in the center of the island. For as long as Dagur could recall, it had been there. The thing that constantly vexed him, though, was that no one would venture in or build anything in the area. Yes, it was rather poorly lit, but that is to be expected from a cave. Well, Dagur enjoyed the quiet, solitude of a dark cave and went in.

Surprisingly, it was not as dark as he had assumed it would have been. A pale, bluish light was emanating from somewhere, although its source was unknown. Also, it was far colder in there than it was outside. _"Probably just the lack of sun."_ Dagur figured, _"Of course, that doesn't explain the light."_ He started to follow it and heard a low growl. Stopping, he realized that in front of him, stood a massive construct of ice. The chief went to touch it, to see whether or not it was real. Before he could, an earthquake occurred. Dagur thought that he had heard another noise along with the shattering stalagtites, but left before he could be certain. "Guess, I'll stay out here for now." he said to himself, grumpily. The rest of the time went by and Dagur and Sleuther got ready again to travel to Defenders of the Wing Island. Upon arriving, they were greeted by Throk and the other guards. "Welcome again, Dagur the Deranged. Our queen has, excitedly, awaited your return." Throk informed him. On the way to seeing Mala, the Berserker started up a pleasant small talk with the Defender. Throk seemed practically shocked at first, but wound up enjoying the conversation.

He quickly quieted down his chuckles as they approached Mala and he bowed, deeply. The queen smiled brighter than she sun and went over to the chief. "I am glad that you have come back." she told. Mala and Dagur went to the healing center and she showed him some of their techniques. "Are you just having me do this to help take care of your dragons?" the Berserker joked, laughing. Mala chuckled, quietly, "No, I am acclimating you to my culture. Also, now that you are aware of these, you can use them whenever you please. Including, should Strykie, or your other dragons need medical aid." Dagur gave a, mildly, surprised, though grateful smile, "Thanks. You should come to Berserker Island sometime." Again, he mentally slapped himself for suggesting such a thing. If she came, she would notice the crazy looks he gets from nearly everyone. What was going on with him? He was normally so good at keeping his mouth shut, unless he wanted something to be said. Mala pondered over the idea of visiting his home, "I would like that. Perhaps, next time, **I** shall visit **you**." Giving an awkward smile, Dagur kept applying ointment to an injured Deadly Nadder.

The Berserker tried to change the subject and thought, quickly, "Hey, Mala, what do you do with that water filled with eels? I had noticed it when we were walking, but forgot to mention it." The queen peeked up from the Gronckle that she was tending to, "That is part of our Defenders of the Wing King trials. Another tradition we have maintained. Although, it flunctuates between being for kings and queens. For every leader who was born into this position, their future spouses have had to prove themselves by completing these trials. While some have opposed the notion of proving one's worth, I see it as a way to ensure that the impending leader is quick-witted and skillful. The challenges can be daunting to some, however. Would you care to take a closer look?" Nodding, Dagur followed Mala to where the trials took place. Even though he could see where a lot of vikings would not want to participate, they seemed intriguing to him. "These kind of look fun, Mala." he divulged. A temptation to speak more on the matter of the trials tugged at the queen's throat. Dagur noticed her change in disposition, "What's wrong? It looks like you really want to say something." Mala blinked a few times to clear the demeanor, "It is nothing."

Dagur eyed her with skepticism, using an expression that made the Defender laugh. She caught herself as soon as the sound escaped her lips, regaining her composure, "Fine. There **is **something that I wish to tell you, but now is not the appropriate timing." The chief complied to her wishes and did not press the matter. After a bit, the two went near the training grounds again. "What's your favorite way to kill hunters?" Dagur asked, eying the weapons in the stadium. His question had taken Mala off guard and she nearly laughed again. "I am not sure. Usually, I am equipped with this sword, so perhaps disembowelment. What of you, Dagur the Deranged?" The Berserker smirked, "You can just call me 'Dagur', if you want. Um, I like a lot of ways. Most of my favorites are the same that would freak the Dragon Riders out, so I tend to keep those to myself." Mala glanced about them and leaned forward, engagingly, "I am far from one to become uneasy." Smiling, disturbingly, the chief told her his top five. With each one, the queen was more and more fascinated. "You are quite the creative man, Dagur. I shall have to try number one, if you do not mind." The Berserker grinned, "Not at all. Knock yourself out, or, moreso **them**." Again, Mala suppressed a chuckle and the rest of their day was pleasurable.

Dagur stayed in Caldera Cay for a few days this time and the following week, a Defender ship pulled into Berserker Island's harbor. The Berserker chief stood in the docks and felt butterflies in his stomach. For some reason, he had been really enjoying his and Mala's time together. The queen disembarked with a box in her hands. She too had been having fun seeing Dagur and felt excited that she would again. Never before had the Defender been to Berserker Island. She was welcomed, warmly, by the chief. "Mala!" Dagur was about to hug her and stopped, "How was the trip?" The queen noticed the contemplated embrace, "It was very nice." She held out the box and placed it in the chief's hands, caressing them on the way back. "You didn't have to do this, but thanks." he said, opening it up. Inside the box, was a sharpening stone. "Since you carry so many knives, I wanted to give you something that you could utilize. This type is especially effective and only found on our island." Dagur beamed, "It's great." His smile faded, "But, what makes you think that I carry a lot of knives?" An almost ornery grin spread over Mala's face, "I make certain to note any weapons on a visitor's person. My eye has been trained to see them even when hidden very well-which yours are."

Dagur looked at the stone and back at Mala. The Defender was shown around the island, promptly. "And here's our trading station. You can find a **lot **of stuff, here." Once they had finished the tour, Dagur brought Mala to the stables. "You can finally meet the others." They entered the stable and the Skrill and Gronckle flew over, happily. "Bluebolt, Shattermaster, this is Mala." the chief introduced. The queen patted their heads and they stayed with the dragons up until the evening, just talking about their perspectives on matters. When their reptilian visit was over, the two went to Dagur's hut. He opened the door for Mala and she entered, contently, smelling the air. "Did you prepare something?" she asked, surprised. The chief nodded and showed her to the table, then set down some food. "Thank you." she told, taking a bite, "This is very good." the queen said, eating more. She and the chief dined and conversed. Once, he actually got Mala to laugh for a few seconds before she stopped, largely because she was unable to. "Why do you try to be so proper all the time?" Dagur questioned, having noticed her habit prior.

The Defender glanced away for a moment and then back to Dagur, "It is because our culture has always attempted to exude an air of nobility. Of course, this is not necessarily true. For a long while, vikings were married off after being smote over the head with a club." The chief's eyes widened, "Harsh." "Quite." Mala agreed, "But despite this, it is even more vital that the leader be as formal as possible." Dagur looked into her eyes, "Well, you don't have to feel like you need to be 'proper' here or around me. Just be your normal, wild self." Feigning offense, Mala smiled, "I am **not **wild." The chief scoffed, jokingly, "As if! I've never seen anyone actually **like **my kill stories, talk about disembowlment the way that you do, or not be creeped out by my laugh. Face it. Beneath all your royalness, we're not too different." The Defender made a face at him and, playfully, punched his arm. "Aha!" the chief exclaimed, "You're loosening up already." His eyes showed a sincerity to his next words, "Mala, you're too cool of a person to think that you need to be something else. It's been really great hanging out with you." The queen returned his look and sighed, "I shall try your 'not being proper' for a few moments to see how it is. Although, I will need for you to commense this."

Dagur complied, "Besides being really smart and a good fighter, you're beautiful." Mala turned bright pink and spun around so that he would not see, "I was not expecting 'unproperness' to involve such compliments." she admitted, embarrassed. The chief went to her side, "Hey, I'm just being honest and being that is hardly **ever **being proper." Gradually, the heat lessened in Mala's face and she looked at him, taking a deep breath, "Well, I find you to be extremely clever, very brave, and most alluring. I would be speaking fabrications if I were to say that I am not also attracted to your muscular build." She stepped closer and ran a hand up his strong arm, sending a tingle up Dagur's spine. A pale hue of red found its way to his face and Mala smirked, "With all these kind things said between us, might it mean that we are beginning a relationship which is more than platonic?" The Berserker stroked his beard, "I think that it might. What are your opinions on that?" She grinned wider, "They are most positive. Have you any objections?" Dagur's hands moved to her waist and pulled her closer, "Can't say that I do." Mala's arms wrapped around his neck. Both leaning in, they nuzzled their heads against each other's, tenderly. Then, they brought their faces close together, indulging in a kiss.


	31. Options

Since becoming a couple, Dagur and Mala had been spending even more time together. One dusk, the Berserker was thinking about going to track down some more hunters and poked the Defender. "You should come with us. An extra pair of eyes is always welcomed." he told her. Mala was about to deny the offer when Dagur said, "I know that you don't want to ride on Sleuther, but if we find out what some of the hunters' next moves will be, we'll be able to protect our islands better than if you stay here and wait for an attack. Also, with your keen observation, we'd have a better chance at finding stuff out." The queen thought more about it and finally sighed, resignfully, "All right. I shall go with the two of you to see what schemes the hunters are plotting. Keeping the island safe is of far more importance to me than keeping its traditions." Smiling, Dagur lifted Mala up to put her on Strykie's saddle. Obstinately, she swatted him away, "I am quite able to perch myself upon his back, thank you." she stated, with an indignant grin. The chief chuckled and watched as she, gracefully, leapt onto the dragon. He got on in front of her and turned his head to see the queen. Before he could suggest that she hold on, the Defender wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. Dagur beamed at Mala, then turned back to Sleuther, "All right, Strykie. Let's go."

They took off and the wind brushed the leaders' faces, pleasantly, as they soared over the seas. Despite how much Mala had wanted to be able to say that flying was as absurd as her ancestors had proclaimed it to be, she was undoubtedly enjoying herself. She had never been so high nor able to see the world in such a way. Gradually, she was beginning to understand her boyfriend's and the Berkians' love of flying. "Sooo?" Dagur sang, seemingly having read her thoughts, "You like this, don't you?" Mala saw the sun reflect off of the water, creating a myriad of oranges and crimsons, and smiled, "Yes, it is actually quite nice." They flew on for a while longer and found a lone hunter ship docked by an island. Checking for more, the trio circled the island, then returned to where they had been prior to moving. "Weird." Dagur commented, "Since when do they only send one shipload of hunters out?" A dragon shrieked, though its cry sounded different from what either of the vikings had heard before. Sleuther followed the sound and, slyly, crept around the trees. Abruptly, he ducked down as a blast of fire shot past him and everywhere else. A couple of yards in front of the group laid a dragon that was shooting fire from its mouth, underbelly, and tail.

Some hunters had netted the dragon and were about to plunge a Dragon Root arrow into its side, though this was the least unsettling part of what Dagur and Mala saw. Near the dragon, some more hunters were there, but not on the ground floor. Instead, they were mounted upon more dragons of the same breed as the one they were trying to capture. The hunters had put harnesses around the rest's snouts to direct them and had switches in their hands keep them at bay and under control. While this certainly did not constitue as being a dragon rider, it shocked and disturbed the group to see that the hunters had gained fliers as well, adding them to their ever-growing roster. Dagur stared at the scene and pondered, _"I have no idea what those dragons are and since I don't, I won't have a clue on how to deal with them. I don't want to hurt **them**, anyway."_ The Berserker bit his lip, _"I can't risk an attack with a large number of completely unknown threats-not with Mala and Strykie with me."_ The queen was looking at the dragons and had tried to recall what she had studied, _"If I remember correctly, it would be more than foolish to challenge these dragons, even if they, themselves, do not wish to fight."_ She and the chief leaned close to each other at the same time, "We should spy on them only." they said, in unison.

Staying out of sight, the trio listened in on what the hunters were saying. "Do we need so many?" one asked, almost whining. A tall, hooded figure was standing by the largest of the dragons that was a red one with furious eyes. This man seemed to be in charge and he turned to look at the lazy hunter, "We need as many as I command you to obtain. Our next move will not be simple." Another hunter seemed less than thrilled over whatever the next plan would be, "No, it won't. It might not even work. We should be focusing on those Dragon Riders, not the Defenders. What good would it do us to destroy **their **island?" A mild lapse in conversation occurred and the hooded man walked over to the other and patted his shoulder, "It will do us well to eliminate **all **of ourenemies that wish to see dragons frolicking, joyfully. However, if you are too imbecilic to see the obvious," he moved his hand from the shoulder to the hunter's throat, "I canunot see any reason to have you stay among our ranks." After some futile struggling, the hunter went limp and sunk to the grass. Clapping his hands together, the choker spun to face the remaining vikings, "Can we all return to our duties, now?" Hurriedly, the others began rounding up the dragons.

Though the trio could not engage the fleet of dragon fliers, they did what they could to help the reptiles. A few slick lifts with Sleuther's tail freed plenty from their nets. Before anyone could get suspicious, the trio returned for Caldera Cay. Immediately, they set up extra guards and lookouts. When everything was done, Dagur went to get back onto the Triple Stryke's saddle. "Where are you going?" Mala asked. The chief observed the island's protection, "You all are ready for war with vikings, but not dragons. I'm going to bring some of my fleet and Bluebolt." The Defender raised her brow, "We shall not include Hiccup Haddock and the others, then?" Dagur shook his head, "I don't know when Berk, the Edge, or both will be attacked, so they need to stay there. I doubt I'll have time to give them a warning, but-" he stopped, a light dawned in his eyes, "While I'm gone, can you send a Terror Mail to them? Just attach a note to a Terrible Terror and it'll take care of the rest." Mala agreed and he flew off with Sleuther for Berserker Island. It was not difficult to gather together a nice sized fleet, while still leaving a substantial amount to protect the island, should they get attacked simultaneously. The Berserkers sailed into the Defenders of the Wing's harbor and just in time. From the south, Dragon Hunters and Fliers were approaching, but they lacked the element of surprise with which they had thought themselves blessed.

Already, Sleuther and Bluebolt started to shoot the vessels. The Skrill narrowly avoided being harpooned by doing a flip, then he responded by sending a lightning blast into three ships. As the Triple Stryke moved to finish off two more, a large fireball whooshed near his body. He spun and saw a flier coming towards them. The hunter was slapping the dragon, provoking it to fire. Dagur patted Sleuther's head, "All right, let's see if we can get that hunter off of him." Speedily, they zoomed past the dragon and Dagur hit the hunter with a knife. Following a painfilled cry, the viking lost his balance and plunged into the wild seas. The Berserker looked for another hunter to attack, but they all flew ahead of him, going towards the island. Sleuther, while by no means slow, was not the fastest dragon, so they could not keep up with the hunters. This was accentuated when the other dragons used their tails and stomach blasts as motors to go even faster. Sleuther dropped to maneuver around the streak of fire that had been expelled. Even before the smoke cleared, Dagur knew where they were heading. The hunters were going to the volcano to attack the Great Protector, but that was what everyone had expected, so they were prepared.

As soon as the fliers reached the island, Defenders that had hidden in trees and bushes shot them with darts and arrows. One by one, the vikings tumbled off the dragons and onto the floor. A few hunters got close to the volcano, though the dragons stopped after seeing eels sprinkled upon the ground. Due to the harsh halt, the rest of the fliers fell forwards and right in front of the Defenders. All the survivors were taken into custody and the leaders spoke to one another. "Great idea about the eels, Mala." Dagur commended her. She smiled, "We would not have known about the attack, had you not suggested that we find the hunters." Like before, Mala appeared as though she had something heavily on her mind. Dagur looked at the queen, "Either another dragon is still here and skimmed the tip of your head with fire...**or** you're thinking so hard that you're smoking." The Defender chuckled and stared, meaningfully, into his eyes, "I believe, it is now the time to say what I have been wanting to tell you." Intrigued, Dagur followed the queen to her hut and they sat next to each other. "Do you recall when I spoke of prophecies?" Mala began. The chief slowly nodded and she started up again, "Well, that was because we have something that falls into that category. It was said that a man from another island would venture to mine and save my life. This man would become my husband and the king of Defenders of the Wing Island."

Realization dawned in Dagur's eyes and they widened. A large grin spread over his face, though it shortly faded. "What is wrong?" Mala inquired. The chief looked at her, _"I can't marry her."_ he thought, miserably, _"With all these hallucin-actually they haven't been as bad lately-but who knows when they'll return? She deserves someone who's..sane. And to be **king**, I'm having a hard enough time convincing my own people to follow me. I doubt I'd be able to convince two islands to trust me."_ Dagur finally spoke, "I can't marry you, Mala. I want to, but I can't." The queen was unable to hide her disappointment, "Why are you unable?" Even though he knew the question was coming, Dagur was still unsure of what to say. Surely,** saying **that he had been feeling rather unstable was a bad as **demonstrating **the fact. "I have a lot of things to work out and it wouldn't be fair to drag you through them." Mala took hold of his hand, "Whatever is wrong, we can work through that together. I am not expecting perfection. If we cannot love each other in spite of our flaws, then we cannot love each other at all." To say that she was not making it easy for Dagur is to understate the situation. There was nothing he could think to say, so Mala continued.

"The prophecy made me aware of the possibility of you and I getting married, though it was because of you that I want it to occur. Of course, I do not expect you to abdicate your duties as chief of the Berserkers. Certainly, we would be able to periodically alternate between the two islands." Seeing how sad Dagur looked, the queen sought to help him lighten up. She grinned and slid closer to him, "And you do still owe me a spar." Mala told, sending a playful punch into his arm, "That is not even to mention how many hunters you and I will be able to execute." Her eyes glimmered with a deadly shine, "You could **show** me some of your favorite termination techniques and we could create more as a team-" The Defender's words were cut off as she was kissed by the chief. Then, in Dagur's mind, he saw himself going mad and attacking Mala. Hurriedly, he let her go and pulled back. The Berserker rose from the chair and leaned against the hut's wall, "I'm sorry, Malapoo. I can't." Desperately, he wanted to tell her the reason, "It's just...I-I need to fix things first." the Berserker sighed, despondently, and Mala went over to him. "I hope that you accomplish what you seek, Dagur." She gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek and a hug. When they released, he held her hands in his, "When I get this done, I'll come back." In an unintentionally dramatic way, he added, "My soul will not be at rest until ours are, again, together, my Beloved."

Dagur exited the hut and trudged over to Sleuther. The dragon nudged him, sensing his emotions, but received only a nod in response. Taking to the air, the pair flew to Berserker Island. A few days passed and Dagur focused on tending to chiefly responsibilities and meditation. He had only imagined one hallucination during this time and was trying to figure out how they were caused. The only constant factor he had had for not experiences mirages was being around Mala. How he missed her. Depression often distracted the chief from what he was doing, but he had to set his mind in order before he and the queen could really be together. Among his dismal thoughts, Dagur heard the flapping of little wings. Glancing blandly up from patting Sleuther, the viking saw a Terrible Terror. The small dragon was hovering over them with a note attached to its horn. Dagur took the letter and it flew away. The Berserker read it, a frown forming on his face, "Looks like we need to go to Dragon's Edge." Jumping on the Triple Stryke's saddle, Dagur went to Dragon's Edge and found Hiccup and the others. The Berkian heir was deep in his ponderings, but quickly noticed his friend and went over to him.

"Dagur, I'm glad you could come and thanks for the warning about the hunters." Hiccup said. The Berserker's face was serious, "No problem, but you wrote that Viggo sent you a letter about going to talk with him?" His comrade nodded, "He requested the two of us. Only us, though, of course." Dagur's face clouded over with suspicion, "He wanted both of us to go alone and speak with him? I'm guessing we're just supposed to assume he'll come alone as well and without some devious plan." Crossing his arms over his chest, he eyed the Berkian, "Did he at least give a reason for **why** we should. You know, other than for a friendly visit." Hiccup walked over and handed the Berserker the note that Viggo had written. Dagur looked it over, scanning it for anything else that might have been the hunter's arrogant way of giving clues to his own betrayal. Handing it back, the chief was unmoved, "All right, so he claimed that he wouldn't attack again with his fliers. We'd be idiots to believe any words out of his mouth..or written down on his paper." With annoyance, Dagur could see the determination for peace within Hiccup's eyes. "We don't know what he'll do, whether it's against us or not. All we know is that there is a chance to end this without anymore bloodshed. We need to take it. You don't **have **to come, but I want you to know what's going on."

Dagur's eyes narrowed, "'Peace' will come after Viggo's dead, if even then. You can't be serious about going. It's a better setup for a trap than anyone could hope for." The Berkian got onto Toothless's back, inducing a grunt from the Berserker, "Of course you're serious." Grumpily, Dagur mounted Sleuther's saddle and scowled at the younger viking, "**When **this goes wrong, don't say I didn't try to warn you." Hiccup smiled, appreciatively, and the two set off, using a map that had been provided with the scroll to find the youngest Grimborn brother. They found the location to be a miniscule hunter ship in the middle of the sea. All of the openings were too small for either the Triple Stryke or Night Fury to enter, so the riders had to dismount in order to go into the lower compartments. Sitting in a chair and looking over maces and talons pieces, the duo saw Viggo. He smiled warmly at them, "I'm so glad that you two could come." he told, "I **do **apologize for not sending you a scroll personally, Dagur, but with all your travels, I was not sure where to send it." His smile turned sinister, "How is Queen Mala? I hope that she was not injured." The chief's blood boiled, though he could have fooled almost anyone. "Get to your point, Viggo." Hiccup said, being able to notice that the Berserker had tensed.

The hunter was not yet done, "Do you like my new allies? They are quite skilled, aren't they?" He gained no reply, "You do not have to answer. Your presence tells me more than your words could ever hope to." Viggo exuded smugness, however, finally reached his motive for calling on them. "Since we all know what I seek, I see no reason to delay this further. I want you to return the Dragon Eye to me." Hiccup looked at him, "You know that I'm not going to give you that. I'm sure there's another way we can work this out." The hunter chuckled, "You are very hopeful, my dear Hiccup. You are not much of a realist, though I admire your optimism-as unwarranted as it might be. I promise you that the best outcome for you and your friends would be if you give me the Dragon Eye." Steadfast, the Berkian folded his arms. Viggo appeared to be nonchalant and leaned back in his chair, bringing his hands together and tapping his fingers against each other. "It interests me which plants and combinations create lethal toxins. For example, only blue oleader is required to kill a dragon. Toxins which harm people, though, are far more intriguing in my opinion. Perhaps, you will tell me if you agree."

Sensing someone else there, Dagur turned in time to see a hunter fire an arrow. In two moves, the Berserker pushed Hiccup out of the way with one hand and threw a knife into the archer's throat with the other. The Berkian was sent to the ground from the force and had confusion written on his face for why he had been shoved. Seeing his friend, he saw the reason. The arrow mildly stung as it penetrated Dagur's flesh on his arm, but he was more annoyed about trying to remove the object and the fact that it had landed in a vein. Small barbs laced the edges of the arrow and would take more diligent time than Dagur felt they had. More hunters were coming into the room and the two realized that other ships must have been joining them. Their dragons would need aid in avoiding the Dragon Root arrows, so they needed to get on the deck and to them. Before they did, Dagur wanted to kill Viggo, although when he turned, he saw that the hunter had vanished. The Berserker made a pathway by taking out hunters and the two got to the deck. Upon seeing them, their dragons swooped down and they were able to get on their backs. There were too many hunters, so the vikings and dragons returned to Dragon's Edge, dodging harpoons along the way.

Along the way, Dagur toyed with the arrow, trying to remove it. He ended up getting it out, though felt almost lightheaded. Holding onto Sleuther with a little bit more strength to avoid falling off, the viking recalled what Viggo had said before he had gotten shot. Mentally, he cursed, _"I've been poisoned."_ The closest island was still Dragon's Edge and that was fortunate because the toxins were working quickly. When Hiccup looked over, his eyes widened to see how pale Dagur had become. Automatically, he too knew what was wrong. "Fishlegs and I will be able to find an antidote." he said, with more conviction than he felt justified for utilizing. The Berserker gave a hardly noticeable nod and they arrived to the Edge in no time. The other riders hurried over to see how the mission had gone and their faces filled with concern as they saw the chief. "Fishlegs, start setting up for experiments. We need to figure out what kind of poison this is and how to remedy it." Hiccup said, helping his friend to relax by sitting down. Every bit of blood in Dagur's body burned like he was being roasted by a Deadly Nadder and Fireworm queen, simultaneously. His muscles felt like he could not move and bones as though they would shatter into pieces if he did. There was no relief for the agony. All that he could do was try to rest. "Hold on." He heard Hiccup say, kindly, "You'll be all right. Just hold on, Brother."


	32. Bardering

Sleuther brought his friend to a hut and, gently, set him down on a bed. The Berserker was flushed and grunting, in obvious pain. Fishlegs started to rant, "What happened? Is Dagur all right-of course he's not all right. He's been poisoned!" The Ingerman let out a deep sigh and spoke again, this time in a calmer manner, "I'm still trying to figure out what kind of toxin Viggo used." Hiccup nodded, solemnly, and looked at the chief. Dagur had begun to shake, violently, and cough. More of the Berkians entered the hut, followed by Heather. She stared at the ill viking with an unreadable expression. "Did he run in like a madman or something?" she questioned, judgementally. With a sad shake of his head, the Berkian heir answered, "No, Viggo set us up-like Dagur thought he would have-and one of the hunters fired an arrow at me. He knocked me out the way and got hit instead." Heather blinked a few times and remained silent. If the chief had willingly risked his life for Hiccup, then it was possible that he had done so, sincerely, for her. Maybe, he truly **did **care for the Dragon Riders. Finding it to be too much to process at once, Heather left the hut, leaving in time to miss the Berserker clutching at his ribs, painfully. Hiccup could not take any more of it and rose from his chair.

"I'm going to find Viggo again and see how to get the antidote." Hiccup said. He stopped and thought for a moment, "Viggo mentioned that Dagur had been at Caldera Cay a lot." The other riders were not catching on. "Yeah, and so what?" Snotlout asked, "He liked seeing lava dragons, apparently. How's that supposed to help?" The taller viking still was walking for the exit, "If he and Mala are close, she needs to know about this. I'll send her a Terror Mail, so she can be here...just in case-" He halted and left the hut, grabbing a scroll. Quickly, he wrote down a message and attached it to the Triple Stryke. Strykie was in no rush to leave his rider and looked at him, miserably. "Sleuther, you have to go tell Mala. She needs to be with him." the Berkian told him. Reluctantly, the dragon nuzzled Dagur's head one more time, seemingly easing his pain as his grimace receded. Next, the dragon took off and flew for Defenders of the Wing Island. As Hiccup went to get on Toothless's back, Astrid caught his hand. "What are you going to do?" she asked. The viking turned to her, "I told you. Find Viggo." Unsatisfied, the warrior frowned, "I mean, I get that you want to, but how are you going to do any better than you two did before?" Hiccup opened his mouth to protest, then furrowed his brows. "I have to try, Astrid. Knowing Viggo, he would have made the antidote as well as the poison." Astrid crossed her arms, "And, knowing Viggo, he'll have another arrow aimed and ready for **you**."

Hiccup looked at Astrid and sighed, heavily. She placed a hand on his shoulder, "Let's think about this a little bit more. You won't be of any help to Dagur if you get poisoned too and you know that's the last thing he'd want." The viking was determined, "Viggo won't kill me because he wants me to bring him the Dragon Eye. That's why he's doing all this. If I give it to him, he'll give me the antidote." Astrid was quiet for a moment and some of the other Berkians had poked their heads out of the hut to listen. "I know that Viggo is the last person who should have the Dragon Eye, but we'll figure something else out later. If we wait too much longer, Dagur might not be around later." Hiccup reasoned. Fishlegs bobbed his head in agreement, "We can always get it back from Viggo and it's worth the risk." he declared. Even Snotlout and the Twins agreed. "I'll go with you." Astrid offered. Hiccup shook his head, "I'm not risking anyone else on this. Viggo would want me to return with someone, so he'd have the upper hand again." He saw the concern in Astrid's eyes, "We'll be as careful as we can be." Hiccup promised. Conceding, Astrid stepped aside so that the other Berkian could grab his gear. Once that all was accomplished, Hiccup got on the Night Fury's saddle and they flew away from the Edge. The young man's heart ached. He recalled the horrid feeling of thinking that his friend had died before and it was not one that he had missed. Sensing him, Toothless made a small noise for solace. Hiccup patted the dragon's head and tried to keep his own clear. "He'll be fine." he stated, trying to convince both Toothless and himself, "If Viggo didn't want alive, he would have killed him during those three years." Saying that actually hurt the heir as well. As much as Hiccup was glad that his friend was no longer a prisoner, he understood that it was far easier for him to move on than it was for Dagur. It had been so simple to see the Berserker and try to forget that he had been a prisoner, but at the same time, it had been impossible.

Something was different about the chief-something was off. While even Hiccup knew that Dagur could have been labeled as 'crazy', he seemed gradually less stable with each passing day. Preparing to attack things that no one else could see, always having a mildly sad look in his eyes. It all cumulated together that last time they had been around each other. Did he really feel that the Berkians were not his friends. Yes, Hiccup **had **known that Fishlegs was moderately timid around Dagur and that was why he had wanted them to spend time together when the Ingerman was thinking that he was Thor Bonecrusher; yes, Snotlout was the type of viking to prefer what he thought to be cool, daring, invincible and wild; yes, the twins were acting, strangely, with their constant notes; and yes, one could argue that Astrid and Dagur never had much of a relationshionship, neither good nor bad. But did all this mean that they were not friends? The Berserker had seemed to also doubt the sincerity of his and Hiccup's friendship, which had to be absurd. Dagur was one of the Berkian's best friends and he would do anything for him. Still, he had to admit that the chief had a point. It is one thing to say you will have someone's back and another for it to be proved. Three, long, agonizing years went by and Hiccup knew neither that he needed to help nor would have known how. If only he had not stopped searching. Maybe they could have found the Berserker. Interrupting him from these ponderings, Hiccup saw the hunter's ship and flew down.

As this occurred, Sleuther had reached Caldera Cay and was flying to find Mala. He found Throk first and landed, looking very anxious. Noticing that the Triple Stryke was without a rider, the guard realized that it must be urgent. Quickly, Throk brought the dragon to the queen. "Sleuther?" Mala asked, curious as to why he was there alone. She noted his nervousness as well and saw the scroll attached to him. After undoing it, the Defender read the letter and leapt onto Strykie's back. The entire flight to The Edge had Mala's stomach in knots. She even felt queasy because of it. Despite how the time seemed to drag on in a sluglike manner, the flight to the Berkians was of a short duration. Upon arriving, Sleuther flew to where Dagur was being kept and Mala dismounted. Running to the chief's side, the queen saw all the pain that he was in. The Berserker was, by this point, awake, but very miserable and nearly delirious. Mala caressed his cheek with her hand, bringing him back to some semblance of sense. Drearily, he turned to glance at the Defender and tried to speak, "M-Mal-" Moving her other hand to her own face, Mala gestured for him no to say anything. Instead of exchanging words, they held hands, the queen giving a light squeeze whenever she saw the chief's other hand clutch at the blankets.

At the sea, Hiccup and Toothless landed on Viggo's ship for the second time that day, this time, ready for any attack. None ensued and the hunter was smiling, cruelly, when he saw them. "Back so soon?" he inquired, in his regal manner. Hiccup glared, "I want the antidote." he stated. Leisurely, Viggo moved a piece on his Maces and Talons board. "Naturally." he said, with somehow even more nonchalance, "I do not, however, understand why you seem to have come here without knowing what I would ask for in return." He peeked up from the game, "Have you brought the Dragon Eye?" The dragon rider took the object out, though held on to it. "How will I know whether or not you're giving me the antidote? It might be a plain substance." Viggo pretended to be hurt, "I would see no point in lying in this situation." When Hiccup hesitated, the hunter continued, "I suppose that you would wish to see the antidote." He brought out a vial that contained an oddly colored liquid. "I am only willing to be so lenient and shall require that you give me the Dragon Eye first." The younger viking looked suspicious and Viggo spoke again, "Your desicion will have to be abrupt, Hiccup. While I want the Dragon Eye, it is not a particularly time sensitive matter. Contrarily, by nightfall, without the remedy, Dagur will perish."

The Berkian held the Dragon Eye out for Viggo to take. Grinning, smugly, the hunter accepted the item and put the vial in Hiccup's hand. "It was a pleasure doing business with you." he stated, though was hardly heard as Hiccup was already leaving. The viking and Night Fury flew back to The Edge, hurrying against the ever-arriving dusk. There, the remaining Berkians were still trying to see if they could decipher the toxin. Fishlegs flipped through some pages of a book and stopped, "This must be it. If I'm correct, Dagur's been poisoned by one of a Triple Stryke's toxins." Automatically, Sleuther snarled, as if upset over his own species. Mala patted his head to calm him down, "Surely, we can prepare the antidote ourselves." Fishlegs made a whimpering sound, "It can take a long time to find the ingredients for it and even longer for tests that make sure it's been properly made." Astrid sighed, "So, in other words, only someone who's been planning on the toxin being used would have had enough time to get the remedy for it." Sadly, the Ingerman nodded. "Then," Mala started, despair seeping into her voice, "all we can do is wait." A grim silence fell over the group. It was odd for Heather to see everyone so unhappy. At the very least, she had expected the twins to make an inappropriate comment, but none came.

She, herself, was not overwrought with impending grief, though a part of the viking did feel an indescribable sense of remorse. Before, it seemed like Heather would have revelled in the idea of the Berserker chief knocking on death's cold, iron door. Also, in the pain he was enduring in the duration of his wait for an answer. How much more misery had she endured due to him sending her adrift? Heather had always known that her family was elsewhere, but was forced to believe that it was because she had been unwanted. Still, for Dagur to put his own life at such a high risk for Hiccup, that must have meant he wanted to do the same for her as well. If that was the case, she simply could not comprehend why he had gotten rid of her. Thinking back to their recent encounters, he really had been trying to reconnect with her. But why throw Heather into the arms of another family if he wanted them to be pmart of a happy family? She looked at the viking who was lying in the bed. He did not look the same at all-which was to be expected, all thing considered. Some of Heather-and possibly more than she would have liked to even admit to herself-wanted him to return to his old ways. It was practically unnerving to see the wild viking so quiet, apart from occassional grunts.

Toothless and Hiccup landed on the island and hurried over to the vikings. The Berkian saw Mala still sitting next to Dagur and handed the antidote to her. Immediate realization dawned in the queen's somber eyes as she saw the container. Gently, she lifted Dagur's head, "We need you to drink this, love." she said, kindly. Tiredly, the Berserker complied and swallowed the liquid. Slowly, the chief's short breaths eased and steadied. His hand loosened around Mala's and he was able to rest. The Defender queen turned to Hiccup and mouthed "Thank you". He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, relief filling him also. _"We can figure out the whole Dragon Eye thing later." _Hiccup thought, _"Right now, we've won."_


	33. Nearing the Battlefield

**Sorry for the longer wait this time. I have been really busy** **with a lot of new things.**

Painstakingly, Dagur began to shift on the bed. He let out a mild grunt as he tried to open his eyes, readjusting to the bright light. The first thing the chief saw was Mala's worried face. She smiled at him and helped him sit upright. "How..long have I been out?" Dagur inquired. "A day." the queen responded. Seeing his expression turn to mild horror, she added on, "Which is actually rather fortunate, considering that you were poisoned by Triple Stryke toxins." This calmed him down, moderately, "How did you all get the antidote? That isn't one that's easy to come by and I know Viggo wouldn't just give it as a parting gift." he asked, curiously. "Hiccup Haddock traded the Dragon Eye for the remedy." the Defender informed Dagur. His eyes widened in shock and he got all the way off the bed, heading over to Hiccup's hut. After knocking on the door, it was briefly answered by the Berkian. He smiled brightly upon seeing the Berserker back to a non-poisoned state. "How are you feeling?" Hiccup inquired, opening up the door more to let him in. Almost in a timid manner, Dagur entered. "Definitely a lot better." he divulged, looking at the younger viking, "Mala said that you traded the Dragon Eye for the antidote."

Hiccup nodded, "It was the only way we could make sure we'd have the right one. Tryple Stryke poisons are surprisingly hard to diagnose, let alone to heal from." Dagur was still unable to understand, "But, you've been working so hard on trying to keep the Dragon Eye **out **of the hunters' hands. You didn't have to give that up for me." The Berkian appeared almost hurt by the sentiment, "Dagur, ideally, the Dragon Eye could be kept with us, but it's just an item. **It** can be replaced. I wouldn't trade any of my friends' lives for it and that includes you." The chief was taken too much by surprise to say anything and Hiccup went on, "Everyone was in agreement about it." He gave a warm smile, "I told you. We're your friends." A small lump formed in the chief's throat and he tried to clear it. He turned slightly, thinking, "We'll need a good plan to get it back." Hiccup smirked, "Not necessarily. I've been working on this since yesterday." Walking over to his table, the Berkian brought out a cylindrical object and showed it to the Berserker chief. Dagur looked at it, impressed, and chuckled, "I probably shouldn't be surprised. What do you need to finish it?" His companion leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms, "I need different gemstones so that it can work, but the only place I know would have them is the Northern Markets."

Dagur scrunched up his face, "We can still get there and back as long as we're vigilant." Hiccup eyed the other viking, doubtfully, "'We'?" he questioned. Dagur nodded, "I feel fine now and the Northern Markets are dangerous enough that you'll need as many people on your side as possible." Knowing that it was futile to attempt dissuading the Berserker, Hiccup sighed, "It'll be better to go sooner than later. I'll see if Astrid wants to come with us and we'll leave the others to cover the Edge while we're gone." He exited the hut and found the aforementioned Berkian. "Astrid, Dagur and I are going to try to find the gems." Hiccup informed her. Astrid's expression was full of disagreement, "The Northern Markets are too risky. If they even **have **the gems, we'd only run into more trouble being there in the first place." Her friend was determined, "If there's nothing else good about the Northern Markets-and there kind of isn't-it's that they have practically everything. If they don't have the gems, I'll know that they can't be found within the required time and that I need to change tactics. Either way, I'll gain something important from there and still need to go." The young lady grabbed her ax and slung it over her shoulder, "Then I'm coming with you." Hiccup grinned, "I thought that you might."

While the two Berkians conversed, Dagur went back to find Mala. She was in the stables, petting Sleuther. "Hey." the chief greeted, quietly. She looked at him with an indiscernible expression, "You and Hiccup Haddock are going to go to the Northern Markets, I am guessing?" The Berserker stopped for a moment, surprised, then nodded his head. "We need to find what's on that Dragon Eye before the hunters do. If we can beat them to the punch, we'll be able to take them out." The queen listened and continued to pet the Triple Stryke. "I have missed seeing you and had hoped that when we met again, it would have been under better circumstances." she divulged, still not facing Dagur. He looked at her, "I've missed you too. A lot." At this, the Defender spun to him, her visage angry, "Then why were you staying away? Have you completed whatever task you have been seeking so desperately? All that I know is that I see you leave one day and be nearly deceased the next. If you still want to not be together yet, fine, but you need to be more careful. The farewells I say to you are not meant to be permanent." Tears stung and brimmed Mala's eyes, though she kept them in their ducts. Dagur had his eyes locked on hers and thought that he had seen a twirling Speed Stinger with his peripheral vision. With much melancholy, he glanced at the floor.

"I'm not done yet. Honestly, I don't know if I ever will be." the Berserker stated, sadly. Mala went over to him, "If that is so, it would not be for the best to wait until this possibly impossible task is accomplished." She cupped his cheek in her hand, lovingly and Dagur started to lean into it. Just as he commenced, he heard an agonized cry and saw Mala with her head bleeding severely. She began to slump and he caught her before she could hit the ground, himself getting down on his knees. Prior to him fully registering what had happened, two hands shook his shoulders and he looked up to see the Defender, alive and well. "What happened?" she asked, concerned. Dagur rose from his knees and looked at Mala. He balked, though managed to stammer out, "I'm sorry, but...I-we just can't." The queen stared at him for a moment, then exited the stables and maintaimed her composure. Hiccup and Astrid were walking in simultaneously as she left and saw Dagur's depressed expression. They both wanted to ask about what occurred, though thought it best to leave the subject alone. "We're ready to head out." Hiccup informed the Berserker. Dagur gave an absent-minded nod and mounted Strykie's saddle.

It was a rather quiet flight to the Northern Markets and the group made certain to hide their dragons as soon as they had landed. Looking around, the vikings found a vendor who was selling the sought after gems. Hiccup's face lit up as he purchased them. "Okay," he said, in a hushed voice, "I've got everything I need for it." The three started to walk away and noticed a tall, hooded figure. He was with a group of vikings who wore matching face masks/helmets. Something about them seemed suspicious, though **staying** at the Northern Markets is even more foolish than going. As they were walking back to their dragons, Dagur could have sworn that he had heard someone say 'Viggo'. He paused, "Did you two hear Viggo's name mentioned?" he asked the others. Both Hiccup and Astrid shook their heads. With a deep frown, Dagur continued striding alongside them and got on Sleuther's back. From this point, they returned to Dragon's Edge. Hiccup wasted no time in going to his hut and testing out the gems with the new Dragon Eye. The others followed him in there, though Astrid quickly got bored by his scientific jargon and left. As Hiccup switched jewels to make sure that they all were functionable, he smiled at his success. Dagur watched the Berkian in amusement and sharpened some knives, using the tool that Mala had given him.

"What are you going to name it? We can't just call it 'The Dragon Eye' too." the chef commented, filing a blade to a lethal point. Hiccup squinted into the object, "I've been thinking about that. How does 'Dragon Eye two' sound?" the younger viking brought up two fingers, "The number two, not as well." he prefaced. Dagur bobbed his head, "Sounds good to me." A faintly mischievous look sparkled in the Berkian heir's eyes, "I've got a question for **you**." Dagur peeked up from the knife and Hiccup elaborated. "So, Viggo mentioned you and Mala having gotten close. I noticed that too." The Berserker's face saddened a bit, "Yeah. She and I had started spending a lot of time together." Thinking back on the memories gave him a combination of joy and remorse, though the good outweighed the bad. Leaning back, Dagur let out a happy laugh. "I've got to admit, H, I love being around her." _"Or more plainly__ love **her**." _the chief thought. He went on, "She's so fun and smart. Really tough too. It's great." Dagur beamed, "She doesn't even mind my laugh!" Hiccup laughed at that, "Well, I'm glad that the two of you are happy." His friend's demeanor altered slightly, _"We were." _he mused to himself and thought, miserably, _"Until I messed it up."_

Trying to shake the regret from his mind, Dagur pointed to the Dragon Eye two. "Do they all work?" he inquired. Hiccup practically shone with satisfaction, "They do. I'll call the others in and we can look at it." It did not take much to convince the others to come see what the item might reveal and within minutes, they all were in the main hut to observe. As the riders and Mala entered, Heather locked eyes with Dagur for a moment. There was a different emotion behind them than what he was accustomed to seeing. The queen kept her focus on the Dragon Eye. Turning their attention to the wall, Hiccup had Toothless do a slow burn in order to light the tool. The team awed as the pictures changed and moved to the sides, leaving one hole in the center. Automatically, Fishlegs went over to the wall and began translating, "It's talking about a 'King of Dragons'." Hiccup rubbed his chin, "Then one **does **exist and if that's true, what the legends say about its telepathy over other dragons might be true as well." The vikings stared at the wall, attempting to decipher what was and was not presently displayed. "It looks like it can be found on Berserker Island." Fishlegs realized. All eyes went to Dagur, whose own were wide also. "What? I suppose that him being a Berserker seems about right." The Berserker leapt to his feet and started out the door, "If the dragon's there, then my vikings are in danger of attack."

The Berkians and Heather followed the chief out and got on their dragons. Given the necessity of speed, Mala got on Sleuther with Dagur. They set their course for Berserker Island and when the group arrived, no hunters were there. They each let out a mild sigh of relief, then landed in the stables. Dagur went to warn the other vikings and they began preparing for an attack. Once this was done, he went over to Heather, "Welcome to Berserker Island. I imagined you coming in a different way." he admitted, sighing. She looked around, "It doesn't really seem like I imagined it either." Heather chuckled, "It's kind of better, to be honest." Dagur smiled, "After this is over, I'll give you a better tour, if you're up for it." Heather seemed open to the idea, "That sounds all right, I guess." She went to join the other riders in preparation for the hunters as a thought nagged in the back of Dagur's mind. _"For the King of Dragons to be here, he has to be hidden somewhere and the only place that could be is in that cave."_ The viking commenced going towards the center of the island. He found the cave and stepped in, looking from side to side. Similarly to how it was the last time he had ventured inside, it was illuminated with a pale blue color. The temperature was also very cold, bordering on freezing.

Listening closely, Dagur could hear breathing. He went in further and began to see the a large mountain of ice. As the viking moved closer, he saw an object within the frozen water. It was an enormous dragon which had white scales. It did not seem to notice Dagur and the Berserker felt as though they were not alone. Calmly, he strolled over to a large rock, marvelling at the reptile. Abruptly, he turned and threw a knife, hearing a grunt afterwards. Dagur walked over to where he had thrown the weapon and glared. On the other end of the dagger, was Viggo. It dug into his shoulder, nearly pinning him to the wall. The hunter's breath was short and when he reached for the blade, one was stabbed into his hand. He cried out and Dagur stated, "Now, I'm going to assume that you're really here and that means that you'll be able to tell me what your friends are planning."


	34. All's Well

Viggo was shoved into a cell, his face getting pushed against the wall. "When are the other hunters coming?" Dagur demanded. The other dragon riders were outside of the cell, all ready for the villain's reply. Viggo grunted and tried in vain to move back, "I don't know when they're coming. We are...no longer even temporary allies." Snotlout scoffed, "Yeah, because we'll **definitely **trust you. Even after you were caught red-handed." His voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Despite what you might believe, it is the truth." Viggo assured him, "They sought to disband our alliance by betraying me." Dagur might have rolled his eyed if they had not been so fixated on glaring, "So what? We're supposed to believe that and feel bad for you or something? About time that they realized you can't be trusted. I'm just upset that you got away." Hiccup tapped his chin, "But did you overhear anyone talking about how they planned on attacking?" The hunter shook his head. There was a slight pause before the Berserker spoke, "Then, you're useless to us." He moved his hand behind himself to grab the handle of his ax. "Dagur, wait." Hiccup said. A moderate glower was sent his way, "Why? He admitted that he can't help." Viggo stood up straighter against the wall and managed to lean his head far enough away to properly project, "I did not say that could be of no use, only that I did not eavesdrop."

"Well, you certainly didn't say how you **would **be of use either, Vigs." Dagur commented, "Care to elaborate or should **I **continue?" He unsheathed his ax and rapped his fingers against the blade. Viggo sighed, exasperatedly, "If allowed to roam free, I can help you prepare for the hunters' arrival." Still unmoved, the chief frowned, "Yeah, you're not getting out of this cell, so that plan is out." The Berkian heir nodded, "We can't trust you to be free." Hiccup told the hunter, "Not with everything that you've done. You're too conniving." As the other riders started to leave, Dagur lingered for a moment, still contemplating over the decision of whether or not he should just kill the younger Grimborn. "You know that I would be far more beneficial outside of my cell." Viggo stated. Dagur's scowl turned into a smirk and he laughed, "I'll admit, between you, your brother, and Alvin, you're probably the last one I figured would be in my prison. Nonetheless, it's been fun having all of you." Feigning concern, Viggo shook his head, "Such resentment cannot be healthy." Smirk reverting back to a scowl, Dagur said, "Neither is being hardly even given water for three years or injected with a hallucination-inducing serum. Not even to mention the rest. Face it, Viggo. You've got a lot of karma waiting for you and I'll be savoring every bit." To his surprise, Viggo began to chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Dagur asked, annoyed, though curious. "You still believe that **I **am the reason for your hallucinations?" Viggo inquired. He received an inquisitive look from the Berserker, "Of course I do. As soon as you had Ryker stick that dart in me, I started seeing things." Viggo's smile enlargened, "It's amusing to me, what the mind can do. So easily, it can override your other senses and take full control." He looked at the chief, "Dagur, the only thing you were injected with was a simple solution that would cause a burning sensation." Dagur's eyes widened, though he laughed, scornfully, "There's no way those happened by themselves." The laugh came in stronger, gradually replacing scorn with insanity, "You can't convince me that I'm just **so **crazy that I imagined things all on my own. Nope, not a chance. You put something in that dart and are trying to get inside my head **now **by telling me that you already have." He ranted on some more and could not help but notice that Viggo was simply observing, appearing to be very content with himself. Dagur huffed, "I don't have time for your tricks." The Berserker began to leave once more and Viggo spoke up, "'Tricks', they are not. All of your mirages have been self-produced. For your sake, I hope that your mental stability maintains for a long enough time to last the upcoming battle." Dagur was able to hear the smugness in the hunter's voice and exited the prison.

All of the Berserkers were at their places, ready for a war. Dagur went up to the stables and found everyone else with their dragons. Frowning, thoughtfully, he looked up at the sky. "Maybe if we're able to go higher than the King of Dragon's range, we can fly without the dragons acting up." the Berserker suggested. It was worth a try, so the vikings mounted their reptiles and took to the air. Bluebolt and Shattermaster ascended and went to opposite sides of the island, keeping ferocious snarls on their snouts. Dagur got onto Sleuther's saddle and Mala leapt up with him. The chief looked to see where the other riders were. Each one was prepared for what was to come and in the far distance, ships and Singetails could be seen. Catapulters readied their boulders, but their chief stopped them. "If you shoot now, the boulders could get blasted by the dragons. The flyers are coming faster, so let's wait to give them a proper welcome." Dagur's signature crazy twinkle was in his eyes as he grinned and chuckled. Closer, the Singetails flew. Their flyers looked no less confident than if they had been told they had already won. Within mere seconds, they reached the island's coast. Dagur's smirk widened when the triumphant smiles of the hunters melted into bewildered and anguished glares. "What's wrong with this dragon?" he heard one say. That was the tall one he had seen with the hood.

"Now!" Dagur called. While the Singetails were disoriented, the riders' dragons fired shots at the flyers. A large number of them got knocked into the sea, but Krogan's Singetail recovered in time to prevent any separation. The two barrel rolled out of the way of blasts and flew high enough out of the cloud of confusion. With the dragons out of the line of fire, the Berserkers launched their catapults and began sinking ships. Mala looked behind herself and saw that Bluebolt was facing the island's other coast and was firing. Likewise, Shattermaster was on the side, trying to fend off more vessels. "They are attacking from all sides." the queen stated. Sleuther shot fire at a hunter who had managed to dock, but more followed. Dagur nodded, "You're right." Quickly, he glanced around and saw his vikings fighting against the hunters. "We just need more dragons." he said. His eyes shimmered with an idea, "Strykie, land over there." The Triple Stryke did as he was requested to do and the chief dismounted. "What are you doing?" Mala asked him, concern in her voice. "The King of Dragons can control every dragon within range. If he learns that he's in danger, maybe he'll summon more." Dagur responded. "How are you going to inform him?" the Defenders questioned. "I might have to act like **I'm **attacking him, but I'll figure that part out." was the uncomforting reply.

Mala looked positively horrified, but could say little more as the Berserker ran off towards the island and called behind him to she and the Triple Stryke, "Keep each other safe." With more than a bit of reluctance, Sleuther returned to the sky and blasted vikings again. Dagur reached the cave and went inside. He was mildly expecting to see Viggo once more, with him somehow having escaped his cell. Instead, the Berserker chief found a group of hunters. _"Well," _Dagur mused, amusedly, _"this is the first time that having hunters around actually makes things **easier.**"_ Their numbers were dwindling exponentially as many fled from the gargantuan dragon. Soon, only Krogan and Johann remained. Slyly, Krogan started to walk away from the former trader and reptile. "What do you think **you're **doing?" Johann snarled, noticing his impending solitude. "I have no business with a King of Dragons like this." the flyer stated, matter-of-factly, "I came here to look for something specific. If you want to have a go with this dragon," He gestured, properly, "be my guest." For a moment or two, Dagur considered just letting the vikings battle each other to the death; however, Krogan won the stare down and began to leave. This is when the chief had begun to get involved as he had originally planned.

Sensing someone alongside him, Dagur noticed that he had been accompanied by a certain Berkian heir. "Whatever Krogan came here for, we can't let him leave with it." Hiccup said, determined, "If you can stop him, I'll deal with Johann." Dagur gave a quick nod and went after the flyer. He followed him to another area of the cave where something was laying in a nest. The Berserker's eyes widened, _"An egg. Guess the king's a queen."_ he thought. Right as Krogan attempted to swipe the egg, a blade dug into his forearm. The man let out a grunt and he turned to see Dagur. His glower became more instigating as he spoke, "You're Dagur the Deranged, yes?" Krogan asked, narrowly dodging another knife. The chief drew his ax and came at him. Krogan unsheathed his own and metals clashed and clanged. "I've heard about you, vaguely." the flyer said, as calmly as someone not in the midst of a fight, "Quite the ruthless reputation you have. Supposedly, you killed your own father for a crown. Of course, Viggo didn't seem to believe that and now that we've met, I agree." His smirk deepened, "You don't have it in you. If you did, neither Viggo nor his brother would be alive right now." A quiet chuckle escaped Krogan's lips, "Though, from what else I've heard, it's possible that you **imagined** killing them both."

Dagur growled, though stopped, staring at something behind them. He sliced in the air, trying to attack the faux foe. Krogan watched, entertained, then turned his back and started exiting. Once he had, Dagur slashed his side with the ax and laughed. "Sometimes, bad reps aren't too unfortunate." Krogan slumped to the ground in pain and the Berserker went over to him. He raised the ax over his head and prepared to bring it down on the hunter's throat. In a final move, Krogan slid the egg out of the cave-right where the cliff was. Speedily, Dagur ran and caught it just before it could fall. He returned to find an empty space that had been filled by the flyer. Frowning, Dagur went to where he had left Hiccup. The viking was in a poor state and was dangling from another cliff while Johann had a lifted a spear above himself to plunge into the Berkian. Inconspicuously, Dagur crept up behind the traitor and grabbed him by the head, then snapped his neck. He casually discarded the body over the edge and took hold of Hiccup's hand. "I've got you, Brother." he said. Hiccup thanked him and his eyes lit up when he saw the egg, all in one piece and there. "We need someone to find a better place for it." he commented. Snapping, he started for the exit, "And I know just the people."

Outside of the cave, the two saw a swarm of dragons, some familiar and some not. "Looks like it summoned others, after all." Dagur marveled. With every hunter either defeated or running, the team gathered together. "The Wingmaidens' mission is to protect young Razorwhips, they might know a safe place for this egg to go too." Hiccup declared. He began sending a terror mail to the maidens while Dagur went over to Mala. An uncommon awkwardness fell on him, "I..um. I think that I'm done." There was a short moment of silence before the queen wrapped her arms around him and they embraced. The two kissed and for the first time in a while, Dagur felt like Mala was not in danger as she was in his company. Once they were done, Heather came over. When she smiled, she was engulfed in a hug by her brother. She almost pushed him away, but stopped, "I'm ready for that tour if you are." Dagur beamed and began leading her throughout the island. "Of course, I'm not expecting you to stay here, but-" he started. "I think that a few days' vacation could be nice to start getting a taste for life as a Berserker." Heather mentioned. Her brother's smile widened further and he had to force himself to not hug her again. "This vacation offer is extended to all of you." he told the Berkians, who grinned. "Though, some new living arrangements might have to eventually be made." he added, focusing on Mala. She smiled and took his hand, walking about the island with the rest. "You know, 'Chieftess Mala' has a pretty cool ring to it. Just saying." Dagur commented. She laid her head on his shoulder, "And I am rather fond of 'King Dagur'." "I guess that we'll just have to rotate between islands so that no one feels left out." the chief suggested. Mala looked at him, "That sounds like a splendid plan."


End file.
